The City that Never Sleeps Job
by Sloane Ranger
Summary: The Leverage crew hits New York to save a child who is in the hands of a people trafficer but come to the notice of the Special Victims Unit after Sophie is attacked. How will each team react to the other?
1. Chapter 1

**The City that Never Sleeps Job**

**A Leverage/SVU story.**

_**Disclaimer –**__ In order to get this out of the way as soon as possible I wish to state for the record that I do not own any part of either Leverage or Law and Order SVU. Hopefully their real owners won't mind me borrowing them for a while._

People who have been following my previous story More Things in Heaven and Earth may be asking themselves what it is with me and SVU crossovers. The answer is nothing but I am going through a phase where I ask myself how characters from one series would see characters from another, unrelated series and SVU just seemed to fit into possible scenarios for both Buffy and this Leverage story.

This is set somewhere in Season 3 of Leverage because I wanted to make Nate a prison escapee and, therefore, as much a criminal in the eyes of the SVU detectives as the rest of the crew. Unfortunately we've only just finished Season 2 in the U.K. I've read as much as I can about Season 3 on the net but nothing substitutes for actually seeing the episodes, therefore, my apologies if the relationships between the characters don't seem right. Any feedback on this would be very welcome.

One last thing before the story starts. After I began this I discovered a challenge on the Forum from Aerynv dated 4th May concerning a Leverage/SVU crossover. Just to say that although this contains some of the elements in the challenge it is a separate piece of work, not a direct answer to it.

**Chapter 1**

"This is Maria, Senor Ford." Constanza Sanchez handed Nathan Ford a photograph. A pretty girl of about twelve was smiling happily at the camera. "That was taken two years ago. It is the most recent picture of her we have. After her parents died we were her closest blood relations. Life is hard for orphans in El Salvador so we paid a coyote to smuggle her into the United States..."

"And he double crossed you." Nate finished the story for her.

Constanza's husband, Pablo, nodded confirmation. "We paid him twenty thousand dollars; we sold the car, used all our savings and borrowed as much as we could to raise the money. Then he demanded another twenty thousand to hand her over. He told us if we didn't pay him, he would sell Maria to Hector Morales. That was nearly a month ago. We tried to get the money, Mr Ford, you have to believe us, but we have nothing left to sell and no-one would lend us any more!"

Nate sat back and considered what he had heard. "Why didn't you just pay an immigration lawyer and have her come here legally?" he asked. He noted the exchange of glances between husband and wife and the change in their body language. "Because you're also here illegally?" It wasn't a question although it was phrased as one.

Pablo nodded, unhappily. "Si." He whispered.

Nate smiled. "We'll take your case." He announced to the pair. The Sanchez's looked at him, their expressions a confusing mixture of amazement, happiness and concern.

"Senor, Morales, he is a very bad man, very dangerous and you understand we cannot pay you." Constanza said.

"We've dealt with dangerous men before, Mrs Sanchez and don't worry about money. We have alternative revenue streams." His lips twitched. "May I take this picture? Thanks, we'll be in touch." He walked out of the café where they had met, leaving the Leverage team's newest clients exchanging confused looks.

* * *

The team took their seats and looked towards the bank of monitors.

"O.K., Hardison, what have you got for us?" Nate asked as he toyed with his whisky glass, ignoring the concerned glances of the others.

The hacker stood before the monitors and pulled up several photographs of a thick set man with short dark hair. Judging from the photos his preferred dress was a shirt hanging open almost to his navel, showing off a collection of medallions hanging around his neck by thick chains.

"This is Hector Morales." Hardison began.

"Looks like a refugee from Saturday Night Fever." Sophie observed.

"Don't let the John Travolta look fool you." The Hacker replied. "This is one bad dude! Started out as a coke wholesaler but has recently diversified into people smuggling, prostitution and sweatshops."

"Staffed by the illegals he smuggles in." Elliot surmised.

"Right on, baby." Hardison confirmed.

"What else do we know about him?" Nate asked.

The black hacker brought up another series of pictures, this time internal and external shots of restaurants. "He lives in New York City where he owns a number of restaurants through which he launders his money." Hardison enlarged one picture so it filled the screens. "This is "Cuba Libre" his pride and joy. _Very _high class, it boasts it serves the best Mojito's outside of Cuba. He can be found there most evenings, glad handing the rich and beautiful people who patronise it."

"He's Cuban?" asked Sophie.

Hardison shrugged. "He says he is. A political refugee from Castro, but no-one knows. He's not involved in any émigré groups and I can't find any trace of him on any databases before 1996 when he suddenly appears as the owner of a bar in Little Columbia."

"What about the cops?" Elliot questioned.

"Both the NYPD and the FBI have him down as a suspect in dope distribution and various homicides. He's been taken in for questioning on several occasions but he's never been convicted of anything, or even arrested. They got nothing in their databases on the people smuggling and the other stuff."

"Right!" said Parker, her voice determined, "Let's take this guy down!" She looked expectantly towards Nate. "When are we leaving?"

The Leverage mastermind gave her a slight smile. "We need a plan first." He reminded her. He took a long swallow from his glass and his eyes glazed over as he thought. Finally, they focussed. "What does anyone starting a new business want to do?" he asked.

"Expand?" answered Hardison.

Nate nodded. "Right." He turned to Sophie. "How do you feel about becoming the owner of the best little whorehouse in Nevada?" he asked her.

She tossed her hair, posed and smiled seductively. "Why, Mistah Ford!" she replied.

* * *

**Two weeks later **

Detectives Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson strode through the doors to the ER and went up to the counter where they flashed their gold badges at the duty nurse.

"Where's the vic?" Stabler asked.

"Examination Room Three. The doctor's just finished with her. She's a very lucky woman" The woman replied.

"If you can call being left alive after being raped lucky." Benson said.

The nurse shook her head. "She wasn't raped." She replied.

The two detectives exchanged puzzled looks.

"If she wasn't raped why did you send for the sex cops?" Stabler asked.

The woman shrugged. "Hey, I said she wasn't raped. I never said whoever attacked her didn't try their damndest! Her dress was torn and her panties had been ripped off. They would have gone through with it for sure if some Good Samaritan hadn't intervened. As it is, she's got a good collection of souvenirs of the occasion; fortunately the Doc says it's mainly superficial."

"The Good Samaritan being the one who called the police?" Benson queried.

"No." the nurse shook her head again. She pointed to a uniform, who was hovering outside one of the examination rooms. "Why don't you ask him? He's the one who rode with her in the bus."

"Thanks for your help." Benson said, as the nurse turned to deal with another customer.

The cop straightened up as the detectives approached him. He was young, obviously only recently out of the Academy, his enthusiasm not yet blunted by the realities of the streets.

"Hey, detectives." He greeted them. "I'm Officer Malinkski."

Stabler smiled at him. "O.K. Malinkski, where's your partner?"

"Guarding the crime scene. As soon as I saw the vic. I remembered the advisory you guys sent out."

Benson nodded approvingly. Over the past month there had been a series of attacks against women tourists in the area where this victim had been found. All the victims had been badly beaten, robbed and then raped. Unfortunately the women had been too traumatised to help out much with the investigation. The best description they could give of their attackers was that they were all young, casually dressed and either white or Latino. They couldn't even agree on how many had been involved. Forensics had been equally unhelpful. No semen had been found on any of the vics so it was assumed that they had worn condoms, which meant that they were either in the system already or watched a lot of CSI. The SVU were checking up on registered sex offenders but without more information it was a long shot.

"So, what you got for us?" Stabler asked the young officer.

"A local store owner phoned in a complaint about hearing fighting in the alley behind his store. When we got there we found the vic lying in the alley. She was alone. Her dress had been torn off and her panties were partially pulled down. She was semi-conscious. While we were waiting for the bus we spoke to the store owner. He said that after he'd called us he went upstairs and looked out of a window that overlooks the alley. It was dark but he could see the vic slumped on the ground, surrounded by a group of guys. Another guy was laying into them, really busting heads. The store keeper said he opened the window and shouted that he'd called the cops. The fight broke up then and the original group took off. The other guy paused like he was listening to something, then took off after them. He couldn't give much of a description of any of them except that the Good Samaritan was white and had long hair."

"Any identification on the vic?" asked Benson.

Malinkski shook his head. "We looked round for a purse but couldn't see one. I guess the perps took it with them."

"What about the vics clothing?" Stabler asked.

The officer held up a plastic bag filled with women's clothing items. "The doctor just gave me this. We left her dress where we found it for Forensics." He reported.

"You did good work." Benson complimented the young officer, who brightened at her words. "Give us the evidence and then you can get back to your partner. Make sure that nothing at the crime scene is disturbed until CSU have finished with it."

"O.K. Detective." Malinkski handed over the bag and walked away, leaving the SVU detectives with the unpleasant task of talking to a highly traumatised woman.

Olivia gently opened the curtains and they got their first look at the victim. She was dark haired and had dark eyes set in a face that was still classically beautiful, even through it was currently marred by sticking plasters on her temple and cheeks and a bruise forming on her chin. She was sitting up on the examination table, dressed in a hospital gown, so the nurse's statement that her injuries were superficial seemed accurate. Fortunately she seemed to be holding it together, at least for now.

Olivia smiled, reassuringly at her. "Hi, I'm Detective Olivia Benson and this is my partner, Elliot Stabler. We're from Special Victims Unit. I know that you've been through a lot tonight but we'd like to ask you some questions so we can catch the people who did this to you…" she glanced down and saw the woman was wearing a wedding band. "Mrs…?"

"Baker, Sarah-Jane Baker." The woman answered in a mid-western accent. "From Troy, South Dakota."

Olivia glanced at her partner, another out-of-towner. It definitely looked like their perps.

"Can you tell us what happened, Mrs Baker?" Stabler asked, his voice gentle.

Mrs Baker ran her hand across her eyes and winced as they caught one of the areas covered by a plaster. "I don't remember much. It all happened so fast. I was out for a walk and I guess I wandered a little too far from the hotel. I remember being grabbed and hustled into an alleyway but after that it seems like a nightmare."

"What about the people who grabbed you? Do you remember how many there were?" asked Olivia.

Mrs Baker closed her eyes in thought. "Four, maybe five?" She hazarded.

"What did they look like? Can you remember anything about any of them?" Stabler pressed.

"What the hell is happening here?" a male voice growled from behind them.

Mrs Baker's face lit up. "Tom, honey!" she cried.

The SVU detectives turned to see a casually dressed man with slightly too long brown hair standing at the entrance to the cubicle. His pleasant features were marred by an expression like thunder.

"This is my husband, Tom." Their victim explained. She turned to her husband. "Thank the Lord you're here!" She opened her arms and Mr Baker moved forward to gently embrace her. Still holding on to his wife, the man turned to the Detectives. "What sort of burg are you people running here?" he raged. "I thought Giuliani was meant to have cleaned up this town but we've only been here a coupla days and this happens!"

"Sir, I know your wife has been through an ordeal but we need to question her while her memory is still fresh. It will help us to identify the men who did this to her." Olivia tried to pacify the man.

"You bet she's been through an ordeal! She's been put through hell! There's no way he's answering your questions tonight. I'm taking her back to our hotel. You can speak to her tomorrow, after she's rested. We're staying at the Grenville Hotel in Midtown."

Stabler nodded. He knew the hotel. It was clean, reputable and mid-priced. The sort of hotel tourists on a limited income would choose.

"Honey, I've brought you a change of clothes." Mr Baker glared at the Detectives. "I suggest we leave so my wife can change." He growled and led the detectives out of the cubicle. Once outside, he turned on them. "You can bet all the folks back home are going to be hearing about this. You let vicious animals roam the streets attacking innocent people while the police browbeat their victims! Don't expect anyone from Troy to visit this jungle anytime soon after I get through telling them what happens here!"

Olivia and Elliot stood and quietly listened. It wasn't uncommon for victims and their families to initially vent their anger at the investigating officers. Although they would have preferred to question Mrs Baker now, given her husband's presence and current attitude, it was probably better to wait until he'd calmed down and realised where his anger really should be directed. In his current mood he was going to be more of a liability than an asset to their investigation.

The curtains swished open and Mrs Baker walked out, now fully dressed. Her husband placed his arm protectively around her shoulder. "Let's go now, honey. We'll get a cab back to the hotel." He began to lead her out but stopped when Elliot called out after them.

"Would nine o'clock tomorrow be O.K. to meet?"

Mrs Baker turned towards him. "Yes, of course. Come round to the hotel then. We're in Room 435."

**T.B.C.**


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to Chapter 2 of this story and thanks to the following people who have made this a favourite story or added it as a story alert, TuTu13, mac-and-cheese417, alinaandalion, BadLuck and Karma, Chibichan91 and Annwynsidhe.

Special thanks to mellu1991 for their review.

I hope you continue to enjoy. Please let me know, I like feedback!

**Chapter 2**

Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson got out of their car and strolled along the sidewalk towards the Grenville Hotel.

"I think we've got a real shot at identifying these scumbags with Mrs Baker." Elliot observed.

"Yeah, she seemed much less traumatised than the other vics, probably because the doers weren't able to finish the job." His partner agreed. She paused. "You don't think that Mr Baker could have been the Good Samaritan who stopped the rape do you? Maybe he followed them to extract some frontier justice, South Dakotan style?"

Stabler considered. "No, I don't think so. I didn't see any marks from a fight on him last night and the way he acted? Someone who'd just beaten the crap out of his wife's attackers wouldn't still be that angry."

Olivia frowned. "But why didn't the guy who prevented the rape stay on the scene? Why did he take off after the perps? I hope we don't have a vigilante on our hands."

"If he gives them what they deserve, I can live with a little street justice." Stabler responded, with a slight shrug.

By now they had reached the hotel. They walked through the revolving doors and approached the desk.

"We're here to see Mr and Mrs Baker, Room 435." Olivia said, flashing her badge at the clerk.

He gave her a professional smile. "Of course, Detective." He looked down at his computer and then frowned. "Room 435, you said?"

Both detectives felt a flutter in their stomachs.

"Yeah, why?" asked Stabler.

"I'm sorry but that room is registered to a Mr and Mrs Nogamura from Kyoto." the desk clerk mumbled apologetically. His fingers played over the keys of his terminal. "In fact, we don't have a Mr and Mrs Baker staying here at all!"

The flutter had now become a sinking feeling.

"You're sure?" Stabler asked. "Dark haired woman; a real looker and a brown haired man, both late thirties, maybe early forties?"

The clerk shook his head. "No, I have a good memory for faces and I'd certainly remember the woman if she was a fox."

The two detectives exchanged a long glance.

"What the hell is going on here?" Stabler asked.

* * *

"Hey from the look of you, my finely honed detective abilities tell me you struck out at the hotel." Detective John Munch leaned back in his chair, with a smug, 'I know something you don't', expression on his face.

"No-one named Baker is registered there and the desk clerk didn't recognise them from their descriptions." Stabler said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not surprised." The lanky detective uncurled himself and moved over to a large monitor screen. "You know we put a rush on the Forensics. Well the DNA results have come back."

"We've identified a perp?" Olivia asked.

"No. The victim." Munch replied. He touched a button and an instantly recognisable picture came up on the screen. "Mrs. Tom Baker, alias Jenny Calhoun, alias Jeanne de Segonzac, alias Contessa Maria di Caravaggio, alias… well the list goes on for pages. She has most recently been calling herself Sophie Devereaux but that may be an alias as well. Occupation: Grifter. Wanted by the police in England, France, Germany, in fact she seems to be collecting warrants for the complete set of European Union countries!"

"So, they blew us off last night and we fell for it like suckers!" Elliot said, disgustedly.

"What about her 'husband'?" Olivia asked.

"Ah ha, not content with identifying your victim I pulled up her known associates." Another click of the button and four smaller photographs appeared. Munch maximised one, which the others saw was a mug-shot of the man they had met the night before. "Recognise him?" he asked, facetiously. "Nathan Ford, Federal fugitive, wanted by Uncle Sam for breaking out of Federal Prison where he was awaiting trial for a long list of felonies, including but not limited to, grand larceny, robbery and fraud. And, there's more!" He brought up another picture, "Elliot Spencer, Hitter. Who just happens to fit the description of the long-haired man who intervened to stop the putative Mrs Baker being raped."

Captain Cragen had wandered up and was listening to the lecture. "What about the other two, John?" he asked.

"Alec Hardison; Hacker. According to the Icelandic authorities he's the reason their banks collapsed a few years back and Parker – just Parker – like Prince or Liberace - Thief. Likewise wanted, and not in a good way, by the authorities in several countries." The pictures were maximised on the screen as he identified each one.

"Given this new information are we certain this woman was really attacked?" Cragen asked. "Could it be part of some scam?"

"I'm certain of it Captain." Olivia replied. "The injuries were real and the way her clothing was damaged, it all fits."

"O.K. so maybe some mark found out they were being scammed and tried to get some payback?"

"Maybe, but the M.O. is the same as for the other victims and, whoever did it, she was really attacked. Whatever she may have done, she's the victim of an attempted rape… I thought we'd moved on from the days when we separated people into 'real' victims and those who asked for it?

"O.K., O.K., 'Liv. Well it looks like the only way to get a line on our doers is to find Ms. Whatever Her Name Is. Just don't expect her to thank you for it when she's sitting in jail waiting to be extradited. From what you're saying, I'm guessing this crew aren't exactly pikers?" He looked towards Munch.

"From what I can find, it looks like they don't bother to get out of bed unless the take is in six figures." The other man confirmed.

"Then you'd better start by sending out those pictures to our swankiest hotels. In order to attract marks with that kind of money you have to put out the right front. Also, check traffic and any other CCTV cameras in the vicinity. Who knows, this time our perps might have been digitally captured for posterity. If nothing else, we can find out this woman's movements immediately before the assault. Keep me informed." Cragen wandered back towards his office.

Stabler looked at his partner. "Why do we never get the easy ones?" he murmured.

* * *

**The Previous Evening **

Elliot strode backwards and forwards along the length of the hotel room like a caged animal while Hardison was typing on his laptop like his life depended on it. Parker sat on the sofa, her body tensed as she stared at the door. It opened and Nate walked in, his arm still wrapped protectively around Sophie. Parker got up and rushed towards the two of them, she put her arms around the older woman and gave her a tight hug before guiding her towards the sofa and forcing her to sit, then buried her face in Sophie's chest, still hugging her tightly. Sophie patted her, reassuringly, on the back.

Elliot moved forward. "Sophie, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I messed up! Hell, I couldn't even catch any of the bastards who did this to you!"

Sophie looked up at him. She reached out her hands and grabbed Elliot's, "Don't be ridiculous!" she said, sternly. "You saved me from being badly beaten and raped. I'd say you did your job just fine. We're thieves, there's always an element of danger in what we do."

Elliot relaxed as she freed his hands. He smiled at her, relieved, and went into the bathroom, emerging with a towel. He went to the bar, almost colliding with Nate, as he took a handful of ice-cubes out of the bucket and put them in the towel before handing the make-shift ice-pack to Sophie who put it on the bruise marring her cheek.

Nate had finished fixing two drinks. He handed one to Sophie and took a long swallow from his own. For once, the rest of the team didn't react. They had seen and heard his reaction after Sophie had been so unexpectedly grabbed and during the confusion that had followed and they knew that he had been badly shaken.

Sophie looked around at the still worried faces surrounding her. "All right, let's get something clear here. This isn't the first time I've been attacked. Elliot intervened in time to stop it being anything worse. The question here is what does it mean for the con?"

Nate took a smaller sip of his whisky. "We have to consider the possibility that Morales is on to us and used those people to send us a message. I think we should fold the con." He said, reluctantly.

"What about Maria? Morales is still holding her and God knows what he's makin' her do for him." asked Hardison.

Parker unburied her head just long enough to hiss fiercely. "We've got to help her!"

"I don't like the idea any more than you do but we can't help her if our cover's been blown." Their boss replied.

"I don't think they had any connection with Morales," Sophie said, "they were white, not Latino and they seemed like street thugs. Elliot?"

The Hitter nodded. "Yeah, they were young, dressed gangsta style and high on something. They weren't professional muscle."

"It's a big coincidence that they grabbed Sophie so soon after her meet with Morales." Nate said, doubtfully.

"Maybe not." Hardison put in. "I've hacked into NYPD files and during the last month there's been six reports of women being attacked in that same area. The M.O. is just like what happened to Sophie."

Nate seemed pleased with the consumer resistance to his suggestion that they pack up and run. "If you're sure Sophie?"

The Grifter nodded.

"Right. We now have three objectives, to rescue Maria Sanchez, to destroy Hector Morales and to bring the men behind the attack on Sophie and the other women to justice. We may need to re-think the con but our most immediate concern is the cops. Hardison, I want you to steal a house."

The others looked at him in confusion.

"They have Sophie's DNA from the clothes she was wearing and the two detectives at the hospital seemed competent. If they haven't put a rush on the results already, they will after they go round to the Grenville and find there's no Mr and Mrs Baker registered there. I figure we have until mid-morning tomorrow at the latest before they identify her and start sending her photo and, if they're really good, ours too, to every hotel in the city. It's what I'd do." Nate explained.

"So," he went on, "we need to move out of here before that happens. Hardison, start searching for a new base of operations; one where we can't be traced through realtors or letting agents. The rest of us; start packing up. We need to be ready to move as soon as Hardison's found us somewhere."

"Pity," said Elliot. "They do a good room service menu here."

* * *

"Thanks." Detective John Munch said to the manager as they left the store. He turned to his partner, Detective Fin Tutuola, who had been at the dentists earlier but who had returned in time to assist in this pavement pounding exercise. "Onwards and upwards!"

A quick check had ascertained that there were no surveillance cameras in the immediate vicinity of where their latest victim had been attacked but a traffic camera, monitoring an intersection about a block away had picked her up. She had entered the picture from the north, crossed the street and continued walking south. Although there were plenty of other people around, none of them seemed to be following her and none fitted the, admittedly sketchy, descriptions of their suspects. She had then been picked up a few minutes later passing an ATM machine, again there was no sign of anyone following her. The only other camera between the ATM and the crime scene had not been working.

Having given up on getting images of the perps, they had returned to the intersection and were now trying to track "Mrs Baker's" prior movements.

"Did you know that there are over ten thousand CCTV cameras in Manhattan alone?" Munch asked. "Big Brother is watching you, wherever you go. Add data mining and electronic surveillance and our constitutional right to privacy is being undermined at every turn."

Fin shrugged. "They help stop terrorism and crime. If you got nothing to hide, you got nothing to be afraid of." He said.

"That is a very naïve attitude…" Munch began, before his partner stopped him.

"Cut the commercial for the ACLU, we got another camera right here."

Munch looked up and saw the device mounted on the wall outside a Bar, giving a good view of the street. They went in. Business was slow and the bar tender was leaning against the counter, watching the silent TV, a bored expression on his face. They showed him their badges.

"We want to see the camera tape or whatever for last night." Fin began.

"Don't you need a warrant or something?" the bar-keep asked.

"Indeed we do, just like your boss needs a liquor licence for this establishment." Munch replied.

The man was quick on the uptake. "Just asking." He said. "Boss!" he called and a middle aged, balding man popped his head out from a door behind the bar. "These cops want to see last night's camera footage."

The proprietor was even quicker on the uptake that his employee and Munch and Fin soon found themselves crammed into the small office, watching the grainy pictures. They were in luck; the angle the camera was set at gave them a good view of a seedy looking cafe further down the street. As they watched, they saw the woman they were looking for leave the eating place, accompanied by a man. They shook hands and the man stood outside watching her walk away.

Fin leaned forward. "Hot damn! That's Hector Morales!"

**T.B.C. **


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks once again for the feedback on this story, **Aerynv (formerly mellu1991) –**glad you continue to like this, **Tawnyleaf** (please can you tell me what lines you have an issue with? Is it about the characterisation or the use of the right American expressions? Please let me know and I'll try to fix it for the future), **DarkBeta** (Thanks for the compliment. It was really difficult to write it so they were recognisable without naming them. Glad I succeeded!) and **a friend** (this is what happens next!).

I am grateful to the following people for making this a favourite or story alert – **Deranged Goddess of Insanity, spk, Tawnyleaf and Bookbabe03.**

Now the story continues with Chapter 3…

**Chapter 3**

The crew looked around appreciatively.

"I know you said steal a house, Boss but I think you'll find this is a more than adequate alternative." Hardison said; his voice filled with false modesty.

It was the penthouse of an exclusive block overlooking Central Park and everything, from carpets so thick their feet were almost lost in the pile to the genuine antique furniture whispered luxury and taste.

"Five bedrooms, three en-suite, one other bathroom, two large reception rooms, a study, a dining room and a kitchen with breakfast area, plus," The hacker walked over to one of the French windows set in the far wall and threw them open, dramatically. "A balcony giving panoramic views over Central Park!"

Parker scampered back to the main party after doing some exploring on her own. "There's a Jacuzzi in one of the bathrooms," she reported, "and a giant tub with clawed feet standing right in the middle of one of the others."

Sophie was absent-mindedly stroking the back-rest of a chair in the art-noveau style, her eyes dreamy. "It's perfect, Hardison." She said.

"How did you find it?" Nate asked, practically.

"A little bit of research showed that the owners always take six weeks vacation at their place on St. Thomas around this time but their insurance company won't let them leave this place empty because of the value of all this stuff…"

Nate nodded. "House-sitters" he said.

"Right! It so happened that the owners left for their six weeks in the sun-kissed Caribbean this morning. I called the house-sitting agency and cancelled the booking, acquired a copy of their letterhead, wrote myself a glowing letter of introduction and presented myself to the concierge. We bitched 'bout how the rich could still live it up while poor working stiffs, like us, watched our friends and relatives lose their jobs and worried about how long we'd keep our own. Then he handed over the keys. No problem! By the way, you owe me three grand for the late cancellation fee to the house-sitters."

"Put it on Morales bill." Nate replied.

"What about the rest of us?" Elliot asked. "Or do they usually have five people house-sitting this place?"

"No, but the doorman and me, we're like that!" Hardison crossed his fingers to indicate their degree of closeness, "and he don't mind me having friends round as long as he doesn't get into trouble. Class solidarity, my man!"

Nate nodded. "You did a good job." He congratulated Hardison. Then he clapped his hands together. "O.K. people, lets get unpacked."

"I want the bedroom with the en-suite Jacuzzi." Parker demanded.

* * *

The SVU sat around an old TV in Captain Cragen's office watching the footage from the CCTV. Fin Tutuola pointed the remote and hit pause.

"Hector Morales." He said. "Big time drug dealer. I know him from my time in Narcotics."

"I see from his sheet he's been brought in for questioning several times but he's never been arrested." Cragen said, doubtfully.

"Trust me, Captain, this guy is dirty! The only reason we never got anything on him was because witnesses had a habit of disappearing or ending up dead!" He paused and then went on, reluctantly. "There's also a suspicion he may have cops on his payroll."

"So, what is Mrs Baker, or whatever, doing with a dope dealer?" mused Olivia. "Are they working together or is he a mark?"

"I'm guessing mark." Munch said. "I've read the sheets on this crew and they are much too classy to be working with someone like Morales."

"Dial back on the admiration John, these people are thieves, don't forget that." Cragen warned. "All right, Fin, I want you to go check in with your old friends in Narcotics, see if they've got a heads up on what's going down here. Also, find out if they've got anyone inside Morales organisation we can talk to. Take Munch with you."

There was a knock on the door and another officer poked her head in. "We got a lead on the targets." She reported. "Security at the Regency Palace Hotel recognised the photos we sent out as five of their guests. They were staying in one of the Presidential suites but they checked out just before ten this morning."

"Swanky!" Stabler muttered, half appreciatively and half angrily.

"Have their rooms been valeted yet?" Cragen asked.

The detective shook her head. "No."

"Get back on the phone and tell them to hold off. Elliot, Olivia, go round there and check them out. It's unlikely they'll have left anything useful behind, but you never know."

The four detectives nodded towards their boss and set out on their errands.

* * *

"So, is there anything on it the police can use?" Nate asked, tensely.

Hardison shrugged. "It doesn't exactly contain a step-by-step guide to the scam but there's research on Morales and background information and documentation on the characters we created for the con.

"How did you manage to leave it behind?" Sophie demanded.

"Hey, I didn't exactly leave it behind!" Hardison defended himself. "You remember when we were bugging out and Elliot and I collided? I was holding the laptop and the memory stick must have got dislodged somehow by the impact."

"You're sure it didn't drop out in the van on the way over?" Sophie asked.

Hardison shook his head. "No. It was plugged in firmly. It couldn't just fall out. Besides, I checked the van and it's not there!"

"So, you're saying it's my fault?" Elliot asked, hotly.

"Children!" Nate intervened to stop the argument before it began. "This isn't the time."

The crew had agreed their sleeping arrangements. Parker had got the bedroom with the en-suite Jacuzzi, as requested. Sophie, the one with the claw-footed bath tub and Nate had taken the other en-suite bedroom, leaving Hardison and Elliot to take the two other rooms and fight over the usage of the remaining bathroom. After dumping their personal belongings in their allocated rooms, they had started setting up their business gear. It was then that Hardison had discovered that the memory stick from his laptop had gone M.I.A. and, after performing due diligence to ensure it hadn't simply been misplaced, made the announcement to the rest of the crew.

Nate came to a decision. "We have to try to get it back. Elliot, you and Hardison go back to the hotel. If the police aren't there yet, get into the suite and retrieve it."

"And if the cops are ahead of us?" Elliot asked.

"Is there any way to wipe the stick from distance?" Nate asked Hardison.

The Hacker nodded. "A strong electro-magnetic pulse would do it, but we'd have to be no more than a few feet away for it to work and a pulse that strong would affect any other digital equipment within range."

"O.K. That's the fallback plan." Nate said. "Now go!"

Parker unwound herself from the couch, where she had been listening silently to the discussion. "You'll need a thief to get into the suite." She said.

Hardison shook his head. "Actually, I cloned the master key card." He displayed a thin strip of plastic and grinned at her. "Age of the Geek, remember?"

She pouted at him as he and Elliot left the penthouse together, still arguing about whose fault the loss of the stick was, although Nate's intervention had taken the sting out of it.

* * *

Fin walked into the Narcotics Squad room followed by Munch and looked round for a familiar face. He was fortunate in finding one almost immediately.

"Al, hey!" Fin called over to a thirty something Hispanic detective.

The man looked up and grinned as he recognised the visitor. "Fin! What brings you back round these parts?"

"The chance to see your ugly mug!" the Afro-American replied. He lowered his voice. "Also to get information on Hector Morales for a case we're working." He raised his voice again. "Meet my new partner, John Munch."

Al stuck out his hand. "Hey. Al Gomez. Is he still as lousy to work with as he used to be with me?"

Munch shook the detective's hand. "A nightmare." He said, straight-faced.

"Al was my contact for a coupla' months when I was undercover." Fin explained.

Al Gomez chuckled. "Come into my office." He said and led them into the men's room. After checking that the stalls were unoccupied, he turned to the SVU officers. "How can I help?"

"You got anyone on the inside of Morales organisation?" Fin asked.

"No-one alive." Detective Gomez replied, harshly. "Our last C.I. disappeared a coupla months back."

"You're surveilling him though?" Munch enquired.

Al nodded. "As much as we can, but resources…" He spread his hands and the other detectives nodded their understanding.

"Anything unusual recently, changes in behaviour or routine?" Fin asked.

His former colleague shook his head. "No, but it's been a coupla weeks since we last put a team on him. There's been rumours that he's branching out into other illegal activities but nothing we can verify. Why are you asking?"

Munch produced a set of photographs from his pocket. "Any of these faces look familiar?"

The other man flicked through the pictures, then shook his head. "No, who are they?"

"They're connected to our case. We have evidence that this one," Fin reached over and selected the photograph of "Mrs. Baker", "met with Morales shortly before she was attacked."

"Hum, I'm guessing from the fact that one of them is a mug-shot that these ain't exactly upstanding citizens?"

"Hacker, Hitter, Grifter, Thief, Fugitive." Munch confirmed. "We think they're either working with Morales or trying to scam him."

"If they're trying to run a con game on him they must be either very brave or very stupid. Morales' killed people for much less." Gomez remarked.

He looked at the SVU detectives for a long moment. Turning to Fin, he asked with a jerk of his head towards Munch, "Do you trust him?"

"Yes." Fin replied, simply.

The response seemed to help make up his mind. "I have an informant. I've been running him privately. You can guess why. He's not actually in Morales organisation. He works as a waiter at his up-scale restaurant, 'Cuba Libre'. He sometimes overhears things and passes them on to me."

"We'd like to meet him." Munch said.

Gomez nodded. "I'll arrange it. If these people are trying to scam Morales, this could provide the break I need to take him down."

* * *

"This way detectives," the fussy Assistant Manager led Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler down the corridor. "They were in the Roosevelt Suite. I must say the news that these people are criminals came as a shock. They seemed decent, respectable people, quiet, polite, good tippers. I assure you that if we had known, we would never have allowed them to stay here. The Regency Palace prides itself on its reputation for ensuring the safety and security of our guests."

"You weren't to know." Olivia re-assured the man. "Adapting their behaviour to the parts they play is part of the stock in trade of a professional grifter."

"Ah, here we are!" the Assistant Manager stopped in front of a set of double doors, slid his master key card along the reader and flung open the doors to the Roosevelt Suite… only to find that the room was already occupied. Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson found themselves staring at Elliot Spencer and Alec Hardison, who stared back.

Elliot Stabler was the first to react. "Police!" he yelled as he reached for his weapon.

**T.B.C **


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the wonderful feedback everyone! Welcome to **SirenMoon, DJ Frost, Sarene Malfoy2255, Cassandra Novala, noontimetunes, 73lachristine, mkp2009, prOnglet **and **Phoenix halfbreed**, who have made this a story alert or favourite story. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Once again, special thanks to all those who have taken the time to review - **alinaandalion**** – **hopefully you'll like the way the story develops as they continue to try to work around each other.

**Tawnyleaf**** – **thankyou, once again, for your continued helpful comments. Leverage will be entering some very dark territory later but I don't want to get too dark and angsty so there will be plenty of lighter moments as well (if it works to plan).

**A friend ()** – I hope to update on a fairly regular basis. My aim is weekly.

**D****reameralways – **thanks for coming over from 'More Things in Heaven and Earth'. Glad you're enjoying this offering.

**Touch of the Wind**** – **I hope you're not too disappointed with how last chapter's cliffhanger works out!

**Rgoul**** – **if you mean the name of the story, I think it's a line from an old song.

Now…

**Chapter 4**

Elliot Spencer reacted quickly. He picked up a chair and threw it towards the doorway. "Get out of here!" he yelled to Hardison, who dived into one of the doorways leading off the suite's reception room.

The two detectives took cover behind the door, pulling the Assistant Manager with them. The Hitter followed up the chair with an ornamental bowl and disappeared after the Hacker, slamming the door behind him.

"Where are they heading?" Stabler asked the Assistant Manager.

"Th…the fire escape, probably." The man stuttered.

"Is it connected to any of the other suites on this floor?" Olivia asked, urgently.

The A.M. shook his head. "No. Each suite has its own escape but they join up with the main ones three floors down, where the standard rooms start."

Benson and Stabler shared a glance and wordlessly came to a decision.

"Get to a phone and call 911. Give dispatch our names and tell them to send back-up. Go!" Stabler gave the man a small shove in the direction of the elevators and he gratefully, scuttled away.

"They're probably not armed; otherwise they would have taken a shot at us before now." Benson said, optimistically.

"Maybe!" Stabler grunted. "Or maybe they just don't want to shoot at cops unless they have to."

The two detectives cautiously advanced into the room, avoiding the direct line to the inner door. Once they reached it, they flattened themselves against the wall. Stabler reached out, grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open as hard as he could. It flew back, crashing into the wall with a giant thud. They found themselves staring at a wide corridor with doors set into the walls at regular intervals on both sides. At the far end was another door, obligingly labelled "Fire Escape". It was swinging shut. Seeing their quarry escaping, the detectives ran towards it. Then, as they passed one of the doors in the corridor, a bottle was tossed out from the room beyond. It was aimed low and caught Benson's foot, causing her to over balance and collapse in a heap. Almost immediately after, Elliot Spencer came out of the room moving like a whirlwind. He grabbed Stabler's gun hand, twisted and grabbed the weapon as it fell from the detective's numbed fingers, then tossed it behind him into the room. Elliot Stabler quickly recovered and aimed a punch at his assailant's stomach but the Hitter blocked it and went for a straight fingered jab at the other man's rib cage with his other hand. Stabler grunted with pain but shot out his fist, connecting with his namesake's left eye and drawing blood.

Olivia had picked herself up and was covering the fight with her gun but was unable to fire for fear of hitting her partner.

"Go after Hardison!" Stabler yelled. "I'll take this guy!"

Olivia looked undecided but nodded and headed for the fire escape.

The fight went on. The Detective and the Hitter trading blow for blow. Spencer's closed fist landing on Stabler's nose and now both men were bleeding but neither gave quarter to the other. Each recognised their opponent's ability, however, and strategy was added to speed and strength as they sparred, looking for a weakness in the other's defence. Spencer got in a back fist blow to the side of Stabler's head but the other man replied with a cross that connected with the Hitter's stomach. Both men were now breathing heavily.

Stabler realised that this was one fight he couldn't win. His best hope was to keep his opponent occupied until the reinforcements arrived. He let loose a combination, right to the head, left to the ribs, then followed up with a closed fist jab aimed, once again, at the Hitter's nose but the other man took the first two punches and deftly avoided the jab, getting in a long fisted punch at the Detective's solar plexus while he was slightly off balance. Stabler recovered and landed a hay-maker, which sent the Hitter's head jerking back. He moved in for a follow up but then, the corridor was filled with the loud, insistent clamour of the fire alarm. It took the detective by surprise but his opponent seemed to be expecting it because he used the Detective's small moment of distraction to step inside his defence, scythe his legs from under him and land a karate blow to his neck that left him on the floor, semi-conscious.

Without a word, he turned and ran from the corridor back into the main reception room. Stabler watched, helplessly, as the other man disappeared.

* * *

Olivia raced down the stairs. She knew Hardison was ahead of her because she could hear the sound of his running feet below her. She thought she was gaining on him as they were getting louder.

She had hated to leave her partner but he had been right to tell her to go after Hardison. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, as many a perp who fancied themselves as a tough guy had learnt to their cost, and they stood a much better chance of finding the whereabouts of "Mrs Baker" and learning what business this group of high class thieves had with Hector Morales if they could play Hardison and Spencer off against each other.

The sound of a door opening and then closing echoed through the concrete stairwell and then there was silence except for her own footsteps. She frowned. Hardison had obviously left the fire escape and re-entered the hotel. From the sound of his footsteps when she had last heard them, she guessed he was probably several floors below her. She increased her pace until she reached the floor above the one she thought he had exited from and then advanced cautiously, gun at the ready, in case he was waiting to ambush her. The landing was empty but the fire door showed signs of having been forced.

'_At least I guessed right on the Floor!'_ she thought to herself.

Olivia opened the door and slipped through, still prepared in case of an attack. The thickly carpeted corridor was empty. Judging from the room numbers on the doors she was on the ninth floor. She paused to consider her options. The corridor was about two hundred yards long, broken by fire doors at regular intervals, but there was a gap in one wall about half way down, probably leading to the elevator lobby. It was possible that her quarry had reached the corner and was getting further away from her at this very moment. Alternatively, he could be hiding only a few feet away in one of the rooms. The key card identification needed to open the doors would probably be child's-play for a computer expert to overcome.

As she stood there, gun at the ready, a casually dressed woman turned the corner into the corridor. She saw Olivia; her gun apparently pointed towards her, opened her mouth and screamed. Olivia quickly guessed the cause of the misunderstanding and moved her jacket aside so the woman could see the Detective shield clipped to her pants. The stranger stopped her screams but stood there with wide eyes, staring at the gun.

"You've just come from the elevator? Olivia asked her.

The other woman nodded.

Did you see anyone between leaving the elevator and here?"

Now she shook her head.

'_O.K., so there's a good chance Hardison's hiding out on this floor.'_ Olivia decided. She looked around and was fortunate enough to see a house phone attached to a wall a few feet away. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave this floor, Ma'm." She told the stranger as she made for the instrument.

The woman just looked at her, not moving.

'_Damn it!'_ Olivia picked up the receiver and quickly scanned the extension numbers beside it. She dialled six for Security and waited, impatiently for the other end to pick up.

"Security? This is Detective Olivia Benson, Special Victims Unit. I want the ninth floor cordoned off immediately. No one is to enter and especially important, no one to leave unless authorised by me. Has the back-up we sent for earlier arrived? Good, send them up here …"

Her further instructions were drowned out by the clamour of the fire alarm. Totally un-nerved by now, the female hotel resident grabbed Olivia's arm in panic. The Detective tried to calm her as she shouted down the phone. "What's going on?" Doors opened on both sides of the corridor as other residents poked their heads out to see what was happening.

"Sensors are showing a major fire originating in the central heating/air conditioning systems." The Security Officer reported. "Get out of there, Detective, this is a Grade 1 emergency; full evacuation!"

"You're sure it's not a false alarm?" Olivia asked, hopefully. "Or could it have been set off deliberately?"

The voice at the other end was harsh. "This is a state of the art system, Detective and its showing smoke fumes travelling through the vents to all parts of the hotel. Get yourself and anyone with you out of there before they reach you! Use the emergency stairs in case the main staircase is compromised."

"Where did the fire start?" the SVU detective asked, desperately.

"In the basement pump room." The voice replied. "Now, do you want to continue to play twenty questions or do you want to evacuate in accordance with NYC Fire Regs?"

Giving up the hope that Hardison had activated the fire alarm as a diversion, Olivia looked around. A crowd had gathered and they were all looking at her for instructions. She sighed and pointed back to the fire exit saying, "Everyone, take the exit and move as fast as you can."

She watched, as they obeyed and, with a last, lingering look back down the corridor, followed them out onto the fire escape and down the stairs.

* * *

**Ten minutes earlier**

Hardison raced down the stairs, trying to ignore Nate's insistent voice in his ear as he listened to the sound of the pursuing footsteps above him. It sounded like the female cop but, whichever one it was, they were gaining. He reached the ninth floor and looked at the door. It was a sturdy affair, obviously designed to delay fire spreading to the fire escape. It also had no handle on this side. He remembered a conversation with Parker and reached into his jacket, taking out a credit card. Trying to ignore the sound of the Detective's footsteps getting louder by the second, he inserted the card into the gap between the door and the jam and forced back the lock. It moved back and stayed there. He inserted his fingertips into the gap and pulled the door open. Pausing only long enough to retrieve his credit card; he stepped into the corridor closing the door behind him.

Now he spoke. "Nate, you monitoring the Hotel's computer system? Good. I'm being chased by the cops. I'm on the Ninth Floor…" he checked the nearest room number, "next to Room 957. Find me the nearest unoccupied room."

There was a pause as Nate checked the computer, then his voice came over the ear-bud. "Room 956. One down, same side."

"Great!" Hardison moved the few feet required, took out his cloned master key card and slipped it across the reader. The light turned green and he entered the room, gently closing the door behind him. He stood there, catching his breath and listening. Shortly afterwards he heard the sound of a door opening, then silence.

"Hardison, what's going on?" Nate asked. The Hacker was relieved that his voice was clear, without the slur that it usually had these days. Crises tended to sober him up, temporarily at least.

"I'm in. The cop's just outside. What about Elliot?"

"He's keeping the other cop occupied."

A woman's scream broke the silence outside, closely followed by the sound of a female voice.

"Sounds like we both need a diversion."

"Yes." There was a moment's silence as Nate thought. "Hardison, can I trigger the fire alarm from here?"

"Sure, but they'll be able to identify which alarm was triggered and track the progress of the fire from their Control Room. It can be fooled but you'll need some major league IT smarts to do it.

"Talk me through it." The Leverage Mastermind ordered.

"O.K. The best place for the fire to appear to start would be the central heating/air conditioning system. They'll be worried about fumes going through the vents so they'll evacuate the entire hotel." The Hacker began the tutorial.

As he finished, the sound of the fire alarm rang its cacophonous warning. Hardison put his ear to the door and listened. He heard the sound of doors opening and the female cop talking to someone. She sounded close but he couldn't hear anyone reply so he assumed she was on the radio or a telephone. Judging from the one-sided conversation she was suspicious of the alarm, which proved she was smarter than the average dough-nut eater.

Finally, he heard her issuing orders to evacuate. He waited until the sound of the emergency exit door closing reached him and popped his head out. The corridor was clear.

Nate's voice came through the comms again. "Hardison, take the main staircase and get out. Elliot will meet you outside the main entrance with transport."

"Got it, boss." The Hacker replied.

* * *

Olivia had successfully shepherded her group of refugees out of the Hotel and handed them over to a member of staff to be taken on to the rendezvous point. She marched back into the Hotel through the side entrance in complete disregard of the Fire Regulations and made her way to the Control Room where she found a confused Security Team.

"So, what's happening?" she asked.

An embarrassed man looked at her. "It appears to have been a false alarm, Detective." He admitted. "It looks like someone hacked into our system." Olivia recognised his voice from her phone conversation.

"Damn it, it _was_ a diversion!"

She glanced towards the bank of CCTV monitors and saw a familiar figure crossing the reception lobby. "He's getting away!"

She rushed from the room, down a dingy corridor, burst out into the lobby, crossed it at a run and out through the main entrance, just in time to see Alec Hardison enter a silver Porsche, which quickly drove away, too fast for her to note a licence plate. She turned to find a uniform to put out an APB, only to stand still as she saw her partner, his face bloodied, stagger towards her.

**T.B.C.**


	5. Chapter 5

Welcome to **VeerleTarjaFreak**, **Fyre Flye619**, **lilykep**, **Val LW**, **littleflame2003**, **Sygonia** and lexi477 and thank you for adding this to your favourite/story alerts lists.

Thank you for your review **TuTu13 **I hope you continue to love this story.

**Alinaandalion**, indeed! They did what they had to do to get away – and Elliot Stabler isn't badly hurt!

Tawnyleaf, thank you for your compliment. I'm glad you think I'm melding the two programmes together well and hope you will continue to think so.

I hope you'll all enjoy this latest Chapter but, WARNING, there are mentions of child sexual abuse in this and subsequent chapters. It will never be any more explicit than you would get in an episode of SVU and it is necessary for the story but I thought you would like to be aware before beginning reading.

**Chapter 5**

Captain Cragen left his office and walked towards the desks where Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler were sitting. "Just had word. Uniforms have found the Porsche they used for their getaway. It was stolen from the hotel's underground car park and abandoned three blocks from the hotel, near a subway station entrance." He told them

Elliot grunted and massaged his bruised ribs. He had been to the hospital and had his injuries treated but they still hurt like hell, although not as much as his pride.

"What I want to know is why they were at the hotel." Olivia remarked.

Cragen nodded. "I'm guessing they left something behind when they bugged out and Mr Spencer and Mr Hardison were there to retrieve it. I've got more uniforms searching the suite but nothing's turned up yet so we have to assume whatever it was, they found it and took it with them."

"Damn it" Elliot swore. He was not used to coming out worst in fights and was in a foul mood. "The next time I get my hands on Spencer, you can bet I'll make him tell me what it was!"

Cragen ignored the implied threat, opting to remind his detective of their original mission. "Let's keep focussed here people and remember we're Special Victims. Our prime reason for starting this was so we could question "Mrs Baker", who was the victim of an attempted sexual assault and who may be able to identify her assailants so we can put them away. Mr Spencer may also be a witness if, as we suspect, he was the knight in shining armour who rode to her rescue. So, when we do catch up with them we will require their co-operation to some degree. These individuals may be crooks and it's increasingly likely that they're not here for the shopping or to take in a Broadway show but we're only interested in whatever job they're pulling to the extent it helps us to trace them. Anything else is Major Cases' headache."

Elliot grunted again. "I don't know about the others but Spencer definitely didn't give the impression of wanting to co-operate, Jeffe." he said, cynically.

"And our only lead has just turned into a dead end." Olivia noted. "We've put the word out to all hotels in the New York area now but no-one fitting their descriptions has registered in any of them." She shrugged her shoulders. "Of course, in a city this size there's plenty of alternative accommodation options for them."

"Well, we'll just have to hope that John and Fin can tease some more leads out of their meeting." Cragen replied. "In the meantime, I've asked Dr Huang to profile these people in the hope he can find something we've missed."

* * *

Fin Tutuola threw the remnants of his sandwich towards the duck that was waddling towards him. It quacked, picked up the crust and returned to the pond.

"You shouldn't be feeding them bread." Munch said. "It's not a part of their natural diet."

"Don't seem to have done them any harm so far." His partner raised his eyes to the sky and pointed to the numerous plump birds floating on the surface of the Central Park duck pond.

Much looked as if he wanted to continue the topic but saw Detective Gomez approaching, accompanied by a young Hispanic looking stranger who seemed as nervous as hell.

"Ah! Saved from further conversation about our feathered friends!" Fin said in relief.

The two men came up and stood close to the SVU detectives, apparently fascinated by the waterfowl.

"Jose, these are Detectives Tutuola and Munch. I trust them." Gomez said, by way of introduction. "Gentlemen, Jose Diaz."

The young man flicked his eyes towards the SVU men. "What you want?" he asked. "It is dangerous to be seen with you. Senor Morales has men everywhere. If he hears I have been seen with police, my life…" He drew his hand across his throat.

Fin nodded. "We understand Mr Diaz and we'll make this as short as we can. Have you noticed any changes in Morales' habits or behaviour recently?"

"His temper is worst. The staff, they whisper that he is moving into other businesses but no-one knows for sure. No-one wants to. They fear him."

"What about these people? Have you seen any of them with Morales?" Munch took the pack of photographs out of his jacket pocket and handed them to Diaz who flicked through them.

"Him and her." He said, identifying the pictures of Ford and Parker. "They have eaten at the restaurant often in the past week, maybe ten days. He wears a big hat, like in the Westerns. He is loud and bad mannered but he tips good. She is quiet and, how you say, yes, tense." He frowned. "She looks older in this picture." he noted, then went on. "At first Senor Morales wanted to throw them out but after the man spoke with him he gave them a good table. Now, when they come in, the boss, he goes over and speaks with the man. The woman, she says nothing."

"Do you know what their names are, what they do for a living?" Fin asked.

"Si." Diaz nodded. "The reservation is in the name of Mr Jed Hackett and I once heard him call the woman Jodine. I served them one evening and Senor Hackett boasted he was a professional gambler from Nevada."

"I don't suppose you overheard any of the conversations this Mr Hackett had with your boss?" added Munch.

Diaz nodded again. "The same evening, I was bringing them a fresh bottle of wine. I hear only a little but it seemed to be about girls…very young girls." His face went red. "Senor Hackett, he was boasting drunkenly that he liked very young girls and had a connection who could get them for him. The lady, she looked at him as if she hated him. Can I go now? I have already been here too long."

Fin and Munch exchanged glances.

"Thank you very much for your time Senor Diaz." Munch said and the young waiter departed quickly.

"Was that helpful?" asked Gomez.

"Yeah." Fin responded. "It looks like either they _are_ running a con on Morales or our Mr Ford is a perv as well as a thief."

* * *

"Ow!" Elliot Spencer flinched back.

"Don't be such a baby!" Sophie scolded him as she cleaned the cut under the Hitter's left eye.

"This cop must have been good to mark you like that." Nate observed from where he was standing observing the younger man.

Elliot nodded, causing Sophie to exclaim with annoyance as she tried to fix the sticking plaster Parker had handed her over the cut.

"There!" she said, finally succeeding. "When the bruises come out you'll be black and blue for a while but, as far as I can tell, there's no bones broken."

Elliot pushed and prodded his ribs and nodded in agreement with her diagnosis. "Yeah. Thanks, Sophie. The guy _was_ good." He said, continuing the conversation thread started by Nate. "Ex-Marine at a guess but he's gone a little soft; he's been relying on his badge and gun for too long. I could have taken him in time, even without the diversion."

"Good, good." Nate said, his eyes far away in thought. "These cops, who were…what did they look like?"

"Man and woman, both white. The guy was stocky, dark hair cut short, mid-forties, maybe. The woman, late thirties or early forties, dark brown hair, shoulder length but unfussy, you know?"

Nate and Sophie exchanged glances.

"Sounds like the two detectives who were at the hospital." Sophie noted.

"Yeah, but why…what were they doing there?" Nate mused.

"They wanted to arrest Elliot and Hardison!" Parker hissed. She hugged Elliot, fiercely, causing him to wince in pain. "They're not taking them away from us!"

"You said they'd find us if we stayed at the hotel." Hardison reminded their boss from where he was sitting, his fingers still tapping on the laptop.

"Yeah, but they must have known we checked out and why Special Victims? I assumed once they made us, they'd pass the information on to some other unit, after all none of us are wanted for sex crimes…"

Parker shrugged. "They're cops. They arrest people like us. I think it's in their rulebook."

A look of comprehension had crossed Nate's face. "Parker, have you finished those portraits, the ones of the people who attacked Sophie?"

"Yeah!" the thief leaned over and flicked open her sketch pad to show the pictures she had drawn from Sophie and Elliot's descriptions.

Elliot studied them and pointed. "That guy, his nose was just a bit wider."

Parker made the necessary adjustment and Elliot nodded. "That's them!"

She showed the pictures to Sophie. "Yes." She agreed. "You really have a talent for this, Parker." She complimented the thief.

Parker shrugged. "I thought everyone could do it." She said.

"So, what are you thinking, boss?" Hardison asked.

"These SVU cops, we're not their main quarry. They want information on Sophie's would be rapists and arresting us is only a means to that end for them. It's the rape gang they're really after."

"I don't see how that helps us." Sophie said. "Whether they want Elliot and me to testify against the rapists before they send us to prison or just want to send us to prison, we still end up in jail. And, in either case, we'll be checking over our shoulders all the time. That's going to affect the con."

"True but it may mean they are open to a deal." Nate replied. He grinned, mischievously. "Let's go steal ourselves a detective squad!"

* * *

The detective compliment of the SVU was gathered around the giant computer screen, which was displaying the photographs of their quarry. Dr George Huang stood in front of and slightly to one side of the screen addressing the assembled officers. He indicated the picture of Elliot Spencer.

"Nothing is known about this guy's early life. He seems to have emerged fully formed in 1998 so I'm guessing the name's an alias…"

"He's had Special Forces training." Elliot Stabler put in.

Huang nodded. "That makes sense. This is a guy who takes pride in his physical abilities and trains regularly to maintain them. He is all about self control. He will dislike anything that makes him lose that control, so I'm betting that he doesn't use drugs and, if he uses alcohol at all, he will be a light drinker. He may also be contemptuous of anyone who allows themselves to be controlled by those substances. Given his assumed military background, the length of his hair is a conscious statement, possibly a rejection of any form of discipline other than what he imposes on himself."

"Alec Hardison." He continued. "Orphaned at an early age and raised by a foster mother with whom he seems to have developed a good relationship. He has a high I.Q. Won a scholarship to Caltech, where he graduated with a . in Electrical and Computer Engineering. Went to work for various companies in Silicon Valley and later attended M.I.T, where he gained an M.S in Computer Science. After M.I.T. he worked for the Federal government for a while, then went off the grid. At some point he began using his skills to hack into I.T. systems. No signs of any pathologies but, his upbringing and choice of career path may indicate that he is a bit of a loner…"

"A geek, you mean!" Fin snorted.

Huang shrugged. "If you like. Despite the relationship he developed with his foster mother, orphans' often feel abandoned by their natural parents' leading to self esteem issues. I'm guessing that this is the case with him and that he infiltrates computer systems as a way of proving to himself and others how smart he is. If I'm right, the money he steals is simply a way of keeping score. Now, Parker, a review of her record shows her rappelling off buildings and squeezing through the narrowest of spaces to gain entrance to her targets. Rappelling is as close as a human can come to flying, a common metaphor for freedom, while her complete lack of fear of confined spaces indicate that she may consider them as refuges. Both are common among people…"

"…who were abused as children." Olivia put in.

"Yes." Huang confirmed. "In Parker's case the indications are so strong I'm guessing the abuse was physical, emotional _and_ sexual in nature. There are also indications in the record that she has poor social skills. This may be a product of the abuse or may indicate a mild case of Asperger's Syndrome." He pursed his lips. "The interesting thing here is that all three of these people are, for various reasons, loners, yet it seems from the records that they have been operating as a group for at least three years. Something or someone is acting as the glue to hold them together."

""Mrs Baker" or Mr Ford?" Captain Cragen asked.

"Possibly. Very little is known about "Mrs Baker" except that she seems to be able to successfully adopt almost any identity she likes. This may either indicate that she is strongly empathic, although her career as a con artist argues against that, or, more likely, she has a very protean personality type. This could have been caused by emotional abuse as a child, leading her to adopt whatever persona she thought would prevent the abuse, or she could simply have been born that way."

"Hey, don't knock the way she was born!" Munch observed.

Huang grinned at him. "She's not my type!" He said. "All of which leads us to Nathan Ford. Psychologically, he's the most interesting of the five and, due to his recent incarceration; we have much more definite information to work with. His test results during Reception and Orientation show his I.Q. as being genius level and his personality type as controlling and addictive. In terms of background, he was born the son of a petty criminal…"

"So, the acorn didn't fall far from the tree." Noted Captain Cragen.

"Not necessarily." The F.B.I. psychiatrist said. "He studied for the priesthood but left before taking his vows for reasons unknown. He obtained a Masters in Statistics and went to work for IYS Insurance as an Investigator specialising in art theft, eventually rising to become the Head of their Global Security Section. He's divorced and had one son, who died young. This seems to have sent him into a downward spiral. He left the company only to emerge a few years later as a member of this team. Prison medical records show indications of alcohol abuse but if he's an alcoholic, so far at least, he's a high functioning one…"

"Any signs he's a perv, Doc?" Fin asked. "The Confidential Informant says he was braggin' to Morales 'bout being connected to someone who'd pimp out young girls to him."

Huang shook his head. "No. His profile indicates a strong heterosexual identity…"

"Maybe that's why he left the priesthood." Munch observed, earning himself a glare from the Catholics present.

"His record shows he excels in tactics, problem solving and lateral thinking." Huang continued. "If this crew have a formal leader, I'm guessing he's it. According to the prison psychiatrist's report, Mr Ford has a Robin Hood complex…"

"Making the others his Merrie Men!" Elliot said facetiously.

Huang nodded. "Actually yes, in his mind at least. He sees himself as the good guy, targeting the powerful and corrupt. With this man, expect the unexpected…"

The screen behind the F.B.I. psychiatrist suddenly went blank, then lit up again, this time displaying the live features of Nathan Ford, smiling a Mona Lisa smile down at the detectives who stared back in shock. Noting, that he had lost his audience's attention, Dr Huang turned and saw what they were seeing. He raised his eyebrows.

"I did say expect the unexpected." he murmured.

From off screen another voice could be heard shouting triumphantly. "Yes! I am the greatest! People, there is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can roll the image, make it flutter. We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to... The Outer Limits!"

**T.B.C.**


	6. Chapter 6

Welcome to chapter 6, sorry for the delay in posting, other things to do.

Thanks **nas2439**, **Jesco123**, **animaluvr123 **and **southrnbygrace** for making this a favourite story or story alert.

**Alinaandalion** – your guess was right! Phase 1 of the theft starts here.

**nas2439** – sorry but I'm not planning on having any Eliot Spencer/Olivia flirting. You'll see why in later chapters. There might be some Alex Cabot flirting though. As for the rest, all will be revealed in due course!

**VeerleTarjaFreak** – thanks for your comments. Yeah, it's really difficult writing when two people have virtually the same name. Glad you liked the Hardison lines at the end, it just seemed so right.

**lilykep ()** – Well spotted. As I said above – once it occurred to me I just had to do it.

**Tawnyleaf** – glad you're still liking this. Sorry about the chapter lengths. It comes out at approx 5 pages per chapter and is a trade off between updating regularly or leaving people hanging on ages.

**Bprice ()**– thanks for your kind words about the characterizations. If at any time you feel someone's behaving out of character, please let me know.

**Southrnbygrace** – thanks for your review. Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter.

**Chapter 6**

Ford's smile widened as he glanced off to the side. "Thank's, Hardison." He said.

At the same time as he was speaking Captain Cragen yelled. "Elliot, get on the phone to TARU, see if they can trace this!"

Stabler reached over and began tapping out the number as Nathan Ford's face, once again, turned to look down on the Squad Room.

"I'm not going to insult you by asking you not to run a trace," He said, his voice pleasant and well modulated but with a slight slur in it. "I'm assured that it will be unsuccessful. I understand that you have been looking for us and, earlier, there was a…misunderstanding. I'm hoping that we can sort the matter out in a …civilised way. Do you have a web cam? If so, please switch it on so we can talk, if you don't, you can type out what you want to say and we'll be able to read it."

Cragen looked, questioningly at Munch, who was the most technically able of the detectives present. The other man nodded and indicated a roundish device on a stand near the keyboard controlling the large monitor screen. Seeing this, Cragen marched across and stood in front of it, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for battle. At a gesture from his Captain, Munch hit the switch turning the camera on and Cragen leaned forward.

"Hello?" he said cautiously. "This is Captain Donald Cragen, Head of the Special Victims Unit."

"Captain Cragen," Ford acknowledged. "I want to apologise for earlier today. My colleagues and I have great respect for the work you do and, normally, we would be willing to assist you to the best of our ability, especially as Sophie was a victim here, however, when the consequences of that assistance would be our freedom…?"

The SVU squad looked at each other, the same thought entering all their minds. _'He's looking for a deal!'_

"You and your colleagues are criminals, Mr Ford." Cragen responded, playing it straight. "If you surrender yourselves, I'm sure the D.A. or the Federal Prosecutor will take any assistance you provide into consideration when it comes to making a sentencing recommendation to the Judge."

Ford smiled derisively before lifting up his hand to take a long drink of something amber from a glass. "Leading to us getting a sentence of fifteen years instead of twenty, not to mention the possibility of extradition afterwards." He noted.

Cragen shrugged. "If you can't do the time, don't do the crime." He replied.

"Yes, I tried that once. It didn't work out." The tone of his voice changed. "Do you want to get the perps who have already committed six rapes, not counting the attempt on Sophie, off the streets before they do it again, Captain?"

"Who says we need your help to do that?"

"The effort you're putting into finding us." The former insurance investigator turned thief replied. "If you've already got leads to follow you'd have told your Major Cases Squad we were in town and asked them to let you interview Sophie or Elliot if they were captured, leaving your people free to follow up the leads on the rapes." He took another long slug from his glass and smiled, benignly. "As a gesture of good faith, Hardison is currently downloading drawings of the men who attacked Sophie. Let me know once they're received."

Cragen glanced towards Munch, who leaned over the terminal and then clicked on the keyboard before nodding confirmation.

"We've got them, Captain." He added.

"Good. I assume you'll want a chance to think this over and consult with the D.A. so, I'll be in touch later." Ford began to turn away.

"Are the rapes linked to Hector Morales?" Cragen hadn't liked the way the other man had seized the initiative by infiltrating their computer network and kept it throughout their conversation so he tried a shock and awe tactic. He could see from Ford's reaction that his shot had struck home. For a brief moment the man's eye's opened wide and he sat back slightly in his seat.

After a long pause, Ford said. "Later, Captain." He made a cutting gesture with his hand and the monitor returned to showing the photographs of him and his team.

The detectives looked at each other.

"I think that confirms my opinion that he's the leader and provide support for the suspicions of alcoholism contained in the medical reports." Dr. Huang noted.

Cragen grunted agreement. "If you're also right about Spencer, there may be tension there. It might be something we can use. Is there anyone who might know something about the internal dynamics of this crew?""

Huang nodded. "An Interpol agent called James Sterling. He used to be Mr Ford's deputy at IYS and was the one who arrested him. I tried to get in touch with him earlier but his office said he was in the former Yugoslavia on an art theft case and un-contactable."

"O.K. so we go with what we have," He turned to Elliot Stabler, who had been on the phone throughout the conversation, liaising with the Technical Assistance Response Unit. "Anything from TARU?" he asked.

Elliot put the phone down and shook his head. "They say the transmission, or whatever it's called, was routed through servers in at least a dozen countries and bounced off a coupla' satellites." He reported.

"Right." Captain Cragen said. "I'm off to speak to Alex Cabot." He marched towards his office to pick up his jacket.

* * *

Sophie came over and stood behind him, placing her hands on Nate's shoulders. "So, they know about Morales!" she noted. "That's going to complicate matters."

Nate reached up and took her hand.

"Still want to play the con?" he asked.

"Oh yes!"

"You really thinkin' of working with these cops, Nate?" Elliot asked.

"It's not natural!" Parker said, with force.

"We've co-operated with Bonanno before." Nate reminded the crew. "And what about those cops who helped out during the con on Doyle?"

"That was different. They were personal friends of Mr McRory and we've only tipped off Bonanno, we've never brought him in on a con." Hardison pointed out.

The Leverage boss shrugged. "They say that variety is the spice of life." He remarked. "Hardison, find out everything you can on these cops. Strengths, weaknesses, whatever…"

"What if they try to double-cross us?" Sophie asked.

"I'm expecting them to try." Nate replied. "It's in a cop's nature. That's why I want to know as much as possible about them… Now, down to work…"

* * *

"These are useless!" A.D.A Alex Cabot tossed the drawings onto her desk. "Worse than useless! Without testimony from an eye witness as to their accuracy, even if we were able to identify any of these guys, no Judge in the State would grant us a search warrant; much less find a prima facie case for an arrest!"

"And, as a former Insurance investigator, Mr Ford would know that. He's giving us the Come On." Captain Cragen noted. "The question is, do we take the bait?"

Alex looked shrewdly at the Captain through her glasses. "You obviously want to." She observed. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come here."

Cragen grinned. "Don't you start playing me Alex!" His face became serious. "Six rapes, six victimised women and no leads until now. Is there anything you can do for them?"

The lawyer shook her head. "Barring ignoring the assault on Elliot? Nothing. There are no wants or warrants against any of them in New York, but Mr Ford is a Federal prison escapee and the others are all wanted by either other States or nations with which we have extradition agreements. I could talk to the Federal prosecutor and the Attorney's General of the other States but there are no guarantees. " She frowned. "This Mr Ford must realise that if he's as bright as you say."

"Oh, I think he realises it just fine, which means he wants something else. Maybe for us to agree to turn a blind eye to their escape after the pay-off goes down."

"We can't do that. We become accessories after the fact. Beside, we'll need either Mrs Baker or Mr Spencer, preferably both, to testify against the rapists at trial."

Cragen frowned. "What if we were to play along? Agree to a meeting to discuss the terms of a deal, then arrest them when they turn up?"

Alex thought. "Legally, the Courts would consider that as acceptable deception but it would hardly put these people in the right frame of mind to co-operate with us and it might create problems later on in other cases if it gets out that we break our agreements."

"It'll be an agreement with the police, not the D.A.'s Office." Cragen pointed out. "And once they're in custody, we can work on them, get them to see the benefit of co-operation. If you're staring at the certainty of twenty years in prison, hell, even the offer of going to a facility with good programmes and better visitation and care packages begins to look good."

Alex nodded. "O.K. Set up the meeting. I'll arrange a conference with the Feds and start contacting the A.G's."

* * *

Captain Cragen, accompanied by Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson, walked into the crowded waterfront bar and looked around. He spotted Nathan Ford, 'Mrs Baker' and Elliot Spencer sitting in a booth. Ford, who had seen him, raised his glass in greeting. Cragen and his companions began forcing their way through the densely packed drinkers.

True to his word, Ford had contacted the precinct again some hours after his first intrusion. The negotiations had been tough, the man obviously sensed a trap, but they had eventually reached an agreement to meet face to face. He had been cautious, however, limiting the number of participants to three from each side, no guns, no cell phones and insisting that he name the place for the meeting at the last moment. His call had come through twenty minutes earlier and Cragen had recognised the location from his drinking days –'Flattery's', a no-nonsense pub catering to longshoremen and other dock workers. It was a place where strangers would stand out like a sore thumb and had the added advantage to people who might need to make a quick getaway of having multiple entrances. It had taken some doing but he had succeeded in getting his officers in place within the short window of opportunity he had been given. Cragen and the others had taken the risk of wearing a concealed mike but neither he nor his detectives were armed or carrying their cell phones.

"We have the targets in sight." He muttered into the mike. "Stand by to move on my order."

"They must have got here early to get their choice of booth." Elliot Stabler noted. "They chose one giving them good line of sight of all the exits."

"They suspect a trap." Olivia said. She was not at ease with lying to a victim in the way they were doing, despite the fact that the victim in question made a living out of lying to others.

The three SVU detectives reached the booth. Cragen opened his mouth but suddenly a high pitched screeching sound blasted through his earpiece and he put his hands over his ears as he doubled up in agony. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his fellow detectives were similarly affected. The noise stopped as suddenly as it had begun, leaving only white noise emanating from the ear-piece. Drinkers nearby glanced towards them but quickly turned away; nobody at Flattery's ever saw anything.

"Please remove your earpieces Captain, Detectives. You'll find they're no longer working. Hardison has sent a message instructing the officers you deployed outside to stand down and is now jamming the frequency you're using." Ford's voice sounded world-weary.

"How…?"

"He sampled your voice during our conversation earlier; he's the best at what he does. Now, why don't you all take the weight off and let's have that talk."

Cragen considered his options, then slid into the seat opposite Ford, indicating that his companions should follow suit.

**T.B.C. **


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks, as usual, to everyone who has read this story particularly those who have made it a favourite or story alert - **Mr. Osborne**,** aaz001nyc**,** Esteldur and Phreakology,**

Special thanks to all those who reviewed. **lilykep ()**,** Tawnyleaf**,** a friend () **and** nas2439.**

**Tawnyleaf – **yes, I hate stories where you're reading and thinking, that doesn't make any sense or where did that come from! I hope that you will continue to like the plotting.

Now, here we go.

**Chapter 7**

"What can I get you all?" Ford asked. "They have a very acceptable Irish Whisky here. I understand you used to be a connoisseur, Captain." His tone was polite but Cragen saw the look in his eyes and knew the other man was trying to get under his skin.

"Nothing for any of us, we're on duty." He replied, roughly. "And don't expect me to apologise for trying to arrest you."

Ford shrugged. "I don't. A cop can't change his or her nature any more than the scorpion in the old story could. I knew you'd try something and took precautions." He glanced around and saw that the two women were openly appraising each other while the male detective was glaring at the Hitter. "Although some of us have met before, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Nathan Ford and these are my…associates, Sophie Devereaux and Elliot Spencer."

"I know who you are." Cragen grunted. "And I'm guessing you already know our names."

"Hey man, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't want to fight you." Eliot Spencer apologised to Elliot Stabler.

"I would have taken you." The other man replied, through gritted teeth. "If your friend hadn't set off the fire alarm."

"I think this would go better if the testosterone levels were reduced." The woman formerly known as Mrs Baker intervened, tartly.

Ford nodded. "I agree. We all got off on the wrong foot. We're not your enemy here, Captain..."

"No, you're the Robin Hood of the 21st Century and the world is your Sherwood Forest where you steal from the rich and give to the poor." Cragen said, sarcastically.

Ford grinned. "I see you've read the report from the prison psychiatrist." He noted. His expression turned serious, "The rich and the powerful, they take what they want, we provide Leverage for the poor so they can get back what was taken from them. If fighting for the rights of the poor and helpless means I have a Robin Hood complex, then I plead guilty with pride. But we're getting off topic…"

"You break the law; that makes you a criminal. I'm a cop, I take criminals off the streets." Cragen replied.

Ford sighed. "O.K. I'm a thief, so are Sophie and Elliot, but I'm sure you've worked with thieves before."

Cragen thought back. There had been that time, not so long ago, when the SVU had worked successfully with Geno Parnell, Frank Hager and the bunch of crooks that made up their immediate circle but that had been different. They had been linked by ties of blood and friendship to a little girl who had been kidnapped. On the other hand, one of this crew was the victim of an attempted rape and the others were linked to her. Perhaps it would be possible - if he used a long enough spoon.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, cautiously.

"You want to put these rapists in jail. We can help you and, as a bonus, we will shortly be in a position to provide you with evidence against Hector Morales that will put him away for a very long time, if not permanently. Did you know, he's diversified into people smuggling, prostitution and sweat shop labour?"

"And all you want in return is for us to sit back and let you take Morales for a big load of cash." Cragen said.

The thief shrugged. "We have overheads and expenses." He remarked.

"We'll need... er…Ms Devereaux and Mr Spencer to give evidence in court and any evidence you provide against Morales will have to be able to stand up to challenge from the high-priced shysters he'll bring on."

"Of course." Ford replied.

'_He's lying!' _Cragen's well modulated antennae told him. "I'll need assurances." He said, out loud.

"Of course!" Ford said, again. "Have you heard about the ancient practice of hostage exchange, Captain? I suggest we revive it for the duration."

Cragen thought, quickly. Working with witnesses who could identify the rapists would help the investigation and having his people on the inside of Ford's crew would enable his officers' to keep tabs on them as well as ensure the evidence they provided would stand up in court. There were dangers for his people to be sure, but there was no evidence in any of their records that this crew targeted cops and, if, as Huang believed, the man sitting opposite saw himself as the good guy, he probably wouldn't want to start.

"I'd like to talk privately with my detectives." He said.

Ford nodded and he and his companions slid out of their seats, moving far enough away to give them the privacy he had asked for but ensuring none of them could make a bolt for one of the exits.

"I'm up for it, Jeffe." Elliot Stabler said in a low voice.

Olivia Benson nodded. "Count me in as well." She said.

Cragen nodded. "It'll be an opportunity to work on them. Find their weaknesses. See how they can be exploited." He said; then indicated for Ford and the others to rejoin the table. "You have a deal." He told them when they had re-seated themselves. "Detectives Benson and Stabler in exchange for Ms Devereaux and Mr Spencer."

Ford shook his head. "No, we need Sophie. Eliot, for your detectives." He saw Cragen's expression. "It's a reasonable exchange, Captain. There are only five of us and how many police officers are there in New York City?"

Cragen considered and then nodded agreement. "It's a deal." He said.

Neither he nor Ford offered to shake hands.

"O.K." Stabler said. "When will the exchange to take place?"

"Now." Ford said, flatly.

"If we're going to be away from home, Elliot and I will both need to pick up some stuff." Olivia protested.

Ford smiled at her. "Detective Benson, this meeting started with an attempted double-cross from your end, I'm not going to allow you the time to arrange another one. It's now or never."

"I'm ready." Eliot Spencer said, holding up a small kitbag.

"And we can provide changes of clothing and personal items for our …guests." Sophie added.

The three SVU detectives looked at each other. Finally Cragen nodded. "O.K. but I insist we keep in touch. I want to be assured of my officers' safety."

"We'll contact you once a day using live video feed like we did earlier." Ford promised. "You and Eliot leave first, Captain."

Cragen got up and looked hard at the two officers he was leaving behind. "Look after yourselves and be careful." He said.

He turned and began pushing through his way through the drinkers, followed by Eliot Spencer.

* * *

Olivia walked out of the elevator and stopped dead as she took in the luxurious surroundings.

She and Elliot had sat with the two remaining thieves for at least fifteen minutes, while they appeared to be waiting for something. Finally, apparently satisfied that whatever it was had happened, she and her partner had been courteously ushered out of the bar, into the back of a van and driven to an underground parking lot. From there they had been taken to an elevator and brought here.

The Hacker – Alec Hardison, who she thought must have been the driver of the van since the other two had sat in the back with Elliot and herself, gave her a sideways look.

"It's not much." He said, depreciatingly, "But it's what we're calling home for the moment."

Suddenly a blonde whirlwind erupted from an open door and flew towards them, sending cereal flying from the open box it was carrying. Both Olivia and Elliot automatically took a step back but it ignored them, almost bowling over Hardison as it enveloped him in a tight hug, then rushing to Ford and Ms Devereaux and doing the same to them.

"You're safe, you're safe!" it squealed. Then it pulled back and looked at them enquiringly. "You _are_ safe, aren't you?" it asked, worriedly.

Olivia saw that the whirlwind was actually a small, lightly built woman. She watched as Ms Devereaux reached out and placed her hands on the other woman's shoulders in a reassuring gesture. "We're all fine, Parker." She said, gently before indicating Olivia and her partner. "This is Detective Olivia Benson and her partner, Detective Elliot Stabler."

Remembering Huang's profile of the woman, Olivia smiled at her. "Hi, you can call me Olivia." She said.

Parker glared at her, suspiciously, and, to Olivia's shock, leaned forward to sniff her like a dog before moving on to do the same to Elliot who looked extremely uncomfortable. Olivia glanced towards Ford and saw, from his expression, that he had noticed their discomfort and had been amused by it.

"This is Parker, the final member of our team." He said. "Parker, could you show our…guests to their rooms please. Detective Stabler can have our Eliot's room and Detective Benson can have mine. I'll sleep on the couch out here… unless you would prefer another arrangement?" he asked, suggestively.

"That would be fine." Elliot said, his tone stiff. "And, as we're going to be living in close proximity to each other for some time, I'm Elliot and my partner's Olivia."

Ford nodded. "O.K., Elliot. I'm Nate, this is Sophie, Hardison prefers to be called by his last name and Parker is just…Parker."

"Why do you have to give up your room with the en-suite bathroom to a cop, Nate?" Parker demanded.

Sophie sighed. "They're our guests, Parker. It's considered polite. We discussed this, remember?"

Parker pouted but said nothing. She turned and marched away. "Follow me." It was an order, not a request.

The remaining members of the crew studied her body language as she led the detectives towards their bedrooms.

"She doesn't trust them and she's not even trying to hide it." Nate noted. "Talk to her again, Sophie.

Sophie nodded. "I'll try but you know Parker and it may not be a bad thing. We need to be careful around these two. According to Hardison's information, Benson is very empathic with victims and she'll probably try to play Parker. Stabler's record shows he's used violence towards suspects in the past but, usually, only when they've targeted the weak or defenceless. If he tries any rough stuff with us we not be able to deal with him without our Eliot."

"Right on, Sophie! I'm still not sure 'bout any of this, Nate." Hardison said. "Lettin' the cops inside, allowin' them to see our trade secrets. And that attempted double-cross earlier, how do we know they won't try again?"

Nate smiled a Mona Lisa smile. "They will try again, that's certain, but, Cragen wants Morales and those rapists. I'm betting that, now he's committed, he'll hold off on us until he's sure they're in the bag."

Hardison frowned. "I hope you're right, boss. 'Cause if you're wrong; don't pull that crappy sacrificing yourself to save us stunt again, 'Cause, this time, we'll leave you to rot in the Big House. Hear what I'm sayin'?"

"I wanted to do my time, remember?" The Leverage boss pointed out.

"Ah!" Sophie replied. "But that was before you became reacquainted with the pleasure of our company."

**T.B.C.**


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry about the delay in publishing this new chapter, unfortunately, work has been hectic recently. I'll update when I can.

Thanks to the following for making this a favourite or story alert, **Lt. Cndr Radner, Taylor Hayes, ****aoife aoibhell, Emily 901, tinecuileog, MagdalenaAmmen.**

Thanks also, everyone who reviewed.

**Tawny **– thanks for your review. I hope you don't feel let down after reading this chapter.

**Nas2439** – yes, I'm hoping to get some interesting interactions out of mixing the teams.

**A Friend () **– Once again, sorry for the delay. Hope you continue to enjoy!

**Ian () – **Don't worry Elliot Stabler has a thick skull!

**Chapter 8**

The ride in Captain Cragen's car had been quiet and tense. The man had barely opened his mouth except to answer direct questions or issue him with instructions on what he could and couldn't do. Now, the two of them were walking into the SVU Squad Room. As this was the first time Eliot Spencer had been in a police station when neither under arrest nor under-cover, he looked round with interest. The place was huge and seemed even more so, given that it was sparsely populated by this time of the evening. A few detectives were still working in a far corner but his eyes were drawn to the two men and one woman clustered together in the middle of the room, staring at him in shock. His finely honed senses identified the tall, lanky, be-spectacled white guy and the shorter, more compact black guy as cops. The woman was a different story. She was severely dressed but her clothes were of good quality and the glasses she wore made her look like an intellectual - probably an A.D.A., he guessed, and an attractive one, he mentally added.

Cragen marched up to the small group and Eliot followed.

"Eliot Spencer - Detectives John Munch and Fin Tutuola. And this is Assistant District Attorney Alex Cabot. Alex, I need a word…in private. John, Fin, show Mr Spencer the Crib. He'll be staying with us for a while as our…_guest_." The last word came out with extra, added emphasis. "Look after him, make sure he's comfortable." Cragen added before disappearing with A.D.A. Cabot into a small partitioned area that Eliot assumed was his office.

Eliot did not need to be an expert in sub-text to understand the meaning of Cragen's last words. He had told these cops not to let him out of their sight. He smiled at them and poured on the southern charm, wishing that the beautiful Ms Cabot had stuck around. Never mind, there would be other opportunities – he hoped.

"Hi, nice to meet you'all. I guess it must have been a shock for you guys when I walked in here without cuffs. The fact is, we're workin' this case together." He studied their reactions, the Afro-American cop was looking at him like he had just crawled out from under a rock but the expression on the white guy's face, while guarded, was more open and there was hint of something else in his eyes…admiration?

"This way." The black cop indicated the direction with his hand and set off, while the white one fell into step beside him. "So, the Blackpoole Wing job, that was something!" he said, conversationally. "And the switch with the horses; a classic!"

'_Either they've automatically gone into Good Cop/Bad Cop mode or we have a fan.' _Eliot thought. He reviewed the briefing on SVU personnel he had received from Hardison. _'John Munch, former campus radical and conspiracy nut,'_he remembered, He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but the Bellbridge job was a mess." He said. "It ended with Nate gettin' shot and taking a fall."

"True!" Detective Munch acknowledged. "But it ended with the taking down of a corrupt prison warden."

"So, you got a lead on the rapists yet?" Eliot asked casually.

Munch shook his head "No. We're hoping you can provide some."

"Hey, anything I can do to help, man. They tried to hurt Sophie; that makes it personal." _'That, at least, is the truth.'_ Eliot reflected.

By this time they had climbed some stairs and were passing a men's bathroom. Eliot stopped. "I just need to use the facilities." He said and opened the door.

"Sure." Detective Munch said and went to follow him in.

Eliot put out his hand to stop him, making sure his gesture was non-threatening. "Hey, can I have a little privacy here, please? I need to…er…you know? And it's not like I can jump out of a window." He waved to show that the room did not have the named item.

"Oh, O.K. I'll wait out here." The Detective said.

Eliot closed the door and checked that the room was unoccupied. "I'm in." he said in a low voice. "But they're keeping me on a short leash. You were right, Nate, Munch might be sympathetic. I'll work on him. I'll keep in touch as often as I can."

"O.K." Nate's voice came through the ear-bud. "Make sure they don't suspect we have this line of communication. We'll keep knowledge of the ear-buds away from our guests for as long as possible."

"Copy that." Eliot said.

Sophie's worried voice interrupted the conversation. "Be careful, Eliot." She warned.

"I always am." The Hitter replied. "I'd better get back to my sheep-dog before he gets suspicious and looks in here." He waited for a reasonable period of time, then pulled the chain, washed his hands and walked out. "That's better!" he said to Detective Munch, who was leaning against the wall. "Now, where's this Crib?"

Further down the corridor, he saw Detective Tutuola, who was glaring at him with suspicion.

* * *

Olivia sat, uneasily, at the elegantly appointed dining table, which was gleaming with silverware and crystal glass. Whoever owned this apartment, and she was absolutely certain it wasn't her current companions, had excellent taste and a lot of money to indulge it. She wondered, for a moment, who and where they were but decided that this was something she could ask later. After all, if these people saw themselves as modern day Robin Hoods they were hardly likely to have murdered the owners just so they could move in, especially when there were so many empty apartments in Manhattan they could use - surely?

The last few hours had taken on a slightly bizarre quality for her and she wondered if her partner felt the same. If she totalled up all the time she and Elliot had spent in the company of criminals throughout their careers, she knew it would add up to years but before today, these interactions had taken place in interview rooms, during arrests or while undercover. As far as she knew, this was the first time either of them had spent any appreciable time interacting socially with crooks as themselves and it felt both odd and wrong.

Not that the felons in question had done anything to make her feel that way. In fact, with the exception of Parker, who she had quickly discovered seemed incapable of being anything other than brutally honest in everything she said, the remaining members of the crew had been unfailingly polite and considerate, helping them to change the beds, showing them around the apartment and offering them refreshments. She had, against her instincts, also, been impressed with the professional briefing on Morales activities she and Elliot had been given by Hardison and the technology these people seemed to have at their command. During the briefing Ford and Ms Devereaux – Nate and Sophie – she reminded herself, had disappeared to return with the promised personal items and changes of clothing.

If she had a complaint, it was that she and her partner had not been left alone to talk privately since they had got there. It hadn't been overt but wherever they went, it seemed that at least one of their 'hosts' was close by, usually Parker. She looked over to Elliot, who was sitting opposite, taking cautious sips of red wine from his glass and looking uncomfortable. He met her glance and nodded, reading her with the ease of long practice and acknowledging that he shared her feelings.

"Here it is folks! Enjoy!" Hardison appeared from the kitchen carrying a steaming casserole dish. He turned to the two detectives. "Make the most of tonight, we won't eat this well again for a while."

"Oh?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah," the Hacker said, setting the dish on the table and whipping off the lid so the smell of Boeuf Bourguignon wafted through the room. "Eliot usually does the cooking. He put this on the slow cooker shortly after we got here. Sophie and me, we're solely end users of the culinary arts, Parker lives on cereals and burgers, leaving us at the mercy of Nate who can knock up something halfway edible, providing you like it fried,"

"I do eat other stuff!" Parker protested, ladling out a large portion of stew on to her plate and tearing a gigantic piece of crusty bread off the warm French stick in the middle of the table. "They're just my favourites!"

"And I can do more than fry." Nate added, in a hurt tone. "I grill and microwave too!"

"Parker, please leave something for the rest of us, remember what we discussed about how we treat guests?" Sophie said.

"Why do they have to be served first?" Parker demanded, through a full mouth. "Eliot's our friend; he made this for us, not them! Now, he's with the police, they've probably put him in a cell and are feeding him on bread and water!" A worried expression crossed her face and she turned towards Elliot Stabler, who was sitting next to her. "You won't give him bread and water, will you?" she asked.

Elliot smiled at the small thief and Olivia saw that he was beginning to unbend around her. She had always known that the almost crusading zeal he brought to bringing sex offenders to justice did not cross over into other sorts of crime. He had shown in the past that he could come to respect, perhaps even like, a thief, especially one as vulnerable as Parker seemed to be.

"Only if he wants bread and water." He reassured the woman.

After giving him a long look, Parker nodded apparently satisfied. "Good! Eliot's my friend!" and went back to her eating.

Olivia took the full plate she was handed and began to eat, enjoying what was an excellent meal.

"So, what do you think of the latest Dior collection, Olivia?" Sophie asked her.

Olivia replied and a conversation on fashion developed between the two women with Parker occasionally dropping in a comment, although the room went silent when she started reminiscing about a con the crew had apparently worked during last year's fashion week. Nate had smiled and gently reminded the woman that this was a social occasion. As she continued to talk with Sophie, Olivia half listened to the discussion around the table; Nate and Hardison were now talking about last night's ball game and attempting to bring Elliot into their conversation, while Parker was dividing her attention between both conversations. It all seemed so normal. She was suddenly overtaken, once again, by the bizarre nature of her current experience. _'I am a veteran detective and I am sitting here, eating a meal cooked by a professional Hitter, discussing designer fashion with a con artist and a thief and listening to my partner talk about sports with a Hacker, the same thief and a prison escapee!'_

She forcibly reminded herself why she was here and made a mental note to take a formal statement off Ms Devereaux about the attempted rape. _'Be professional; don't get too close to these people!'_

__

_

* * *

_

Eliot Spencer scissored the last sweet and sour chicken ball out of its container and popped it in his mouth. It wasn't the Boeuf Bourguignon he had been hoping to dine on that night but at least he was eating the same food as the police officers. He was sitting in an interview room giving his formal statement to the two detectives Cragen had detailed to keep an eye on him and, he had to admit, it was a better class of interview room to that he was accustomed to. Of course, this was one they used for victims and witnesses, not the Box where suspects were interrogated.

"O.K., Mr Spencer," Detective Tutuola continued, his distaste for the courtesy he was extending obvious, "sign here to confirm that these drawings of the suspects are accurate."

Eliot took the paper and made a show of carefully reading the paper that had been pushed towards him before signing his name at the bottom. "So, what happens now?" he asked.

The other detective, Munch, smiled at him. "Now you sit down with a lot of mug books and go through them." He said.

Eliot looked at him. "That sounds like a long-winded way of trackin' these guys down and there's no guarantee they're in the system." He said.

Tutuola shrugged. "The City won't spring for an IT programme allowing us to run line drawings against the mug shots in the Criminal Records Database." He said. "So, we have to do it the old fashioned way."

"There must be a way of narrowin' it down!" Eliot protested. "These guys run as a pack. There's no way they are limiting themselves to rape. Have you checked reports for street gang activity; muggings; vandalism?"

The door to the room opened and Captain Cragen strode in. This didn't surprise Eliot, who had assumed that the Captain had been watching the interview through the two-way mirror along one wall.

"Mr Spencer, let's get one thing clear." The Captain said. "You are here as a witness and as the guarantor of my two detectives' safety. You are not here to take an active part in this investigation…John, please take our…guest somewhere quiet where he can start going through the books."

As he followed the tall Detective out of the room Eliot sighed, it was going to be a long night. He decided not to tell his hosts that Hardison had already hacked deeply into the police computer network and was running both a facial recognition search in the CRD against Parker's sketches _and_ some sort of other search programme of police reports to see if the rapists might have come to notice in other contexts.

Cragen stood watching until the door had closed behind the Hitter and then turned. "Fin…"

"Yeah, got you, Cap. I'll start lookin' at the reports for anything that might fit straight away! I'll also send these drawings out to all precincts." He shrugged. "Who knows some street cop out there might recognise one of these skanks." He frowned. "I hope El and 'Liv are O.K." he said. "If those low-life's hurt either of them, I'm warning you now that Spencer will get it back in spades."

Cragen hoped they were alright too. The discussion with Alex had been difficult to say the least. He prayed that he had made the right decision.

**T.B.C. **


	9. Chapter 9

O.K. Here is chapter 9, sorry it's more of the talk thing but I need to set the scene. I promise that we will have more action in the next chapter.

The usual thanks to everyone who has reviewed or made this a story alert/favourite -

**Alinaandalion** – yes, the family feel comes over very clearly in both programmes.

**a friend ()** – sorry but it won't be long now.

**nas2439**** and ian ()** – yes, Fin is a bit of an optimist but he probably can't imagine that someone he despises can beat him! Just a little more patience and your queries will be answered!

**foxfire222**– keep reading and you will have your wish.

**Chapter 9**

Olivia stood at the window of her bedroom, looking down on Central Park. In the distance she could see the glittering lights of the Upper West Side. Their hosts had not attempted to keep their location a secret from the detectives, indeed it would have been impossible for them to have done so, one glance out of the window had shown the NYC natives that they were in a condo somewhere on 5th Avenue. This confirmed the impression of wealth she had had when she first entered the apartment.

'_Of course,' _she mused, _'There was no way they could keep that information hidden from us unless they kept us locked in a closet so why not make a gesture of being open about it?' _

Although the bedroom was luxuriously furnished and the bed itself soft, she felt too keyed up to sleep and hadn't even tried. So, here she was, still fully dressed, waiting for Elliot to come see her, as she was certain he would.

Sure enough, the sound of her bedroom door being gently opened and soft footfalls on the thick carpet interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see her partner standing just inside the door, his finger on his lips and his other hand pointing towards the bathroom. She followed him in and watched as he perched on the side of the bath and turned the taps fully open.

"You think they've bugged the bedroom, El?" she asked, sitting on the toilet lid.

The other detective grinned slightly. "I think it's better to assume they have." He replied. "Did you notice that this is the first time we've been left alone since we got here? They made it look accidental but I got the definite feeling it was deliberate. We gotta assume they're still keeping tabs on us. If anything happens, we act like we're having an affair. O.K.?"

Olivia nodded her understanding.

"Hell of day, eh?" he went on. "So, what do you make of this crew?"

Olivia frowned in thought. "I don't know, El, dinner felt so surreal. The conversation, their behaviour, it was all so normal… until you remembered that these people are professional criminals. It's clear that they don't trust us but that's hardly surprising given that we're on opposite sides of the law. You noticed how Ford shut down Parker when she started talking about the job they pulled last year? We may never really get on the inside with them. They give off a definite family vibe with Ford and Devereaux in the parental roles."

"The family that preys together stay together?" Elliot's lips quirked. "We've seen some pretty dysfunctional families, how do you rate this one?"

She considered the evening. "There are tensions there, particularly about Mr. Ford's drinking. You noticed as the evening progressed how the others seemed to be monitoring his intake?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, so did he; and I got the definite impression that it irritated him. What 'bout Parker? She seemed to be really worried about Spencer. You think they're an item?"

Olivia shook her head. "No, it seemed more like sisterly concern to me. From the way Hardison acted round her, though, I'm betting he's attracted to her. I'm not sure if she returns the feeling. Of course she may be emotionally stunted if she's as damaged as Huang thinks. I got a definite sexual under-current between Ford and Ms Devereaux, but I don't get the feeling that they're sleeping together, at least currently."

"So, 'Dad's' a drunk, he and 'Mom' are sleeping in separate bedrooms and possible incest between two of the children; yep, the all American family!" Elliot quipped. "So, how do we play this?"

"I'm thinking straight, at least until they take down Morales. He's the priority target."

"They're criminals, 'Liv, we're cops." Elliot pointed out, harshly. "Hey, I know they're likable, but remember, it's their stock in trade. We've got a slam-dunk case of B&E staring us right in the face; you don't think they actually bought or rented this place do you? Look, knowing you, I'm guessing you see Parker as a victim. I think she needs help too, but she sure as hell ain't gonna get it with this crew; maybe she can get the treatment she needs in prison, but either way, we've got to do our duty. We can worry 'bout what happens to them once they're under arrest. And let's not fool ourselves. They may think they're Boston Blackie or the Lone Wolf, but Spencer, at least, has a history of violence!"

Olivia recognised that her partner's attitude was, at least in part, due to him fighting his own positive first impressions of these people, but he was right. They had a sworn duty to uphold the law! She nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah, but let's see what their plan to take down Morales is first. If there's a chance to put him away we should take it. In the meantime, maybe Ford's drinking is our way in to the others."

Elliot nodded. "Sounds like a plan. We'll play it that way, at least for now." He agreed.

* * *

"That's disgusting! Parker is so not my sister! How can it be incest? And nothin's happened between us…nothing!" Hardison howled as the voices of the detectives came softly through the laptop's speakers. "Talk about clutching vipers to our bosom! That's what these cops are, vipers! And thinkin' they could fool my bugs by running the taps; I'm insulted!"

Nate had his hands clasped in front of his face, his elbows leaning on the study table. He noted the aspects of the cops discussion that had roused the younger man's ire and grinned. The Hacker was more upset about them talking about his feelings for Parker than he was by their plotting.

"Detective Benson's very perceptive though." He pointed out. "She knew that…saw how you felt about Parker and she's guessed about her…difficulties." He considered the overheard conversation. "At least we've bought ourselves the time we need for the con. And we were expecting a double-cross. We just have to plan for it."

"Yeah, but incest, that is just so wrong! These cops have got real filthy minds!" Hardison protested.

"If you spend all your time around perverts, you come to see perversion in everything." Nate replied. "According to his dossier Stabler has five children and I'm willing to bet he's the sort of over-protective father who drives teenagers to distraction. We can use that. Now, we need to find out what pushes Detective Benson's buttons…"

"Anyway," he continued, "we know they're not going to try anything imminently. We'll include them in the briefing tomorrow." He paused. "Hardison, you know how Parker is likely to react if she finds out that these people are talking about putting her in prison. I think it's better if we keep that from her, at least for the time being. In the meantime, I'll talk to Sophie, see if she can get a read off Benson."

Hardison nodded. "You're still the boss." He noted. "But don't hold off telling Parker for too long. If she finds out on her own, someone's likely to get hurt!"

"I know." Nate replied. "And thanks." He added, dryly. "Anything yet on the search programmes you're running about the rapes?"

The Hacker grimaced. "We struck out on the Criminal Records Database. They're not in the adult system and juvie records are more heavily protected. I don't have the spare processing power here to access them. The other programme is still running the pattern analysis." On seeing Nate's expression, he went on. "Hey, I set them up as background programmes using any spare processing power available. Given everything you want me to use the system for; it's a testament to my genius that we got anything at all!"

* * *

Eliot Spencer looked up from the mug books and glanced at his watch. It would soon be time for the check-in. He groaned as he massaged the bridge of his nose. He had been up until the small hours looking at photographs until he had felt himself going cross-eyed, then he had snatched a few hours sleep in the Crib, woken early, grabbed a coffee and a Danish and started again. His eyes felt heavy and his body ached from lack of exercise.

'_I gotta do something1'_ he thought to himself. _"All this sitting around; it ought to be declared cruel and unusual punishment!'_

"You want another coffee?" Detective Munch, who had been sitting with him, asked solicitously.

Eliot had been grateful that the other Detective, the one who had seemed to dislike him on sight, had been busy on other work but he felt crowded, almost claustrophobic, having the man constantly looking over his shoulder. "No," he growled, "I want to be out there, running these scumbags to earth. Anything other than sitting here turnin' pages!"

The lanky Detective shrugged. "Welcome to the other side of the street; long periods of hard graft, followed by short, gut-wrenching periods of fear-filled activity." He said. "Anyway, it's almost time for your guys to contact us so we might as well have a break."

Eliot nodded, got up from his seat and stretched. He began to run through a series of Tai-Chi exercises to loosen himself up. As he did so he noticed that the attractive D.A he had been introduced to the previous night had reappeared and was standing in front of the computer screen, deep in conversation with Cragen and an Oriental man he'd seen around earlier but who had not been introduced to him. He wandered over, hoping to overhear their conversation but, before he was close enough, Cragen had seen him and, after a muttered word with the others, they had fallen silent.

He turned on the southern charm again. "Miss Cabot, it's good to see you again. I know you're finding this all a little strange but I guarantee that you'll think it was worth it once you have Morales!" He saw the A.D.A's expression relax and she gave him a half smile before, once again, putting on her professional face when she remembered who and what he was.

Content with her reaction, he smiled at the stranger and offered his hand. "Eliot Spencer, hey!"

The other man smiled back and took the proffered hand. "Special Agent George Huang, F.B.I." he said. "I've been brought in because there may be cross-jurisdictional issues here."

"Eliot, be careful of this guy!" Hardison's voice echoed in his ear and he was only just able to stop himself from jumping since this was the first time he had heard from his crew since waking. The Hacker went on, "He's a shrink, specialising in criminal profiling."

Eliot's experience with F.B.I. agents was decidedly mixed. He'd known some able ones in his previous occupation as a Retrieval Specialist but the ones he'd met recently ranged from the likable but incompetent, like Agents Taggert and McSweeten to the poisonously dangerous like Agent Nevins. The appraising look this one was giving him, however, showed he was a man to be taken seriously. "Good to meet you." He said, smilingly, making a note to say as little as possible in front of the man.

Cragen looked at his watch. "Its time." He noted and Munch leaned over and switched on the screen and web-cam. There was a short pause, then Nate Ford's face filled the screen.

"Good morning." He said and smiled.

Captain Cragen did not waste time with the social amenities. "I want proof of life of my people." He grunted.

Eliot saw Nate nod. "Of course." He glanced off camera, "Hardison, if you please?" The camera switched to a shot of the two Detectives.

"Elliot, 'Liv, you O.K?" Cragen asked.

Stabler nodded. "We're fine Cap. We've been asked not to tell you where we are but let me tell you, we are living high in every way!"

His voice was abruptly cut off and Nate's face once again appeared on the screen. "As you can see, we're keeping our part of the bargain, now we want to see our Eliot."

Eliot walked forward and leaned in over the web-cam. He knew they knew he was O.K. because of the ear-bud but it was important the cops didn't guess they had alternative methods of communication. "I'm here, Nate." He said. "Bored outa my mind looking at mug books but otherwise O.K. Enjoy the Boeuf Bourguignon?"

"Yeah! It was great!" Parker's enthusiastic voice came from somewhere off camera. "Are they feeding you O.K.? 'Cause if they're making you eat bread and water, the cops here will be living off iron rations for the duration."

Eliot smiled affectionately. "It ain't cordon bleu but I'm eatin' what the cops here get." He replied.

"O.K." Nate interrupted. "Now the preliminaries have been dealt with, perhaps we can get down to business…"

"We'll need Ms Devereaux and Mr Spenser to testify at the trial of the rapists." A.D.A. Cabot began.

"You need to catch them first." Nate shot back. "Any progress there?"

"No." Eliot quickly intervened. "They've had me looking at mug books since I got here but no joy so far."

"So, the question of providing testimony is still moot. Nevertheless, we wish to help as much as possible." Nate smiled broadly. "Earlier this morning Sophie provided a statement to your detectives here. We're sending it now."

Munch checked the computer. "Received." He reported.

"We'll need the original for any trial." Cabot pointed out. "And Ms Devereaux and Mr Spenser will still have to testify. I've been in contact with the relevant authorities and they are prepared to consider generous plea bargains for them both."

Eliot could not stop himself snorting at what the authorities would consider a good deal and he heard Sophie's voice in the background.

"I'm sorry but I can't fit a prison term into my social calendar just at the moment."

"Well," Nate drawled, "you've heard the response to your offer. Now, here ours, we want full amnesty for us all in return Sophie and Eliot's testimony."

"That's impossible!" Cabot protested. "This is the best deal you're going to get. I had to call in favours, twist a few arms to even get that!"

Nate shrugged. "I'll tell you what. Why don't we both sleep on it? We'll be in touch same time tomorrow."

He nodded and the screen went black.

* * *

As Hardison ended the connection Nate swung round and grinned at the crew and their two guests.

"Now, let's go steal ourselves a child prostitution ring!" he said.

**T.B.C.**


	10. Chapter 10

Here's the next chapter, folks. Sorry it's been so long in coming. My sight's been a bit off for a while and I went to the optician who told me I had cataracts and I would probably need an operation. He sounded most put out about it as, apparently, I'm a bit too young to have reached that stage. Anyway, after he told me that, I didn't feel too much like writing for a while. But, I'm back now.

Just to give you warning, this chapter includes references to the sexual abuse of children and some racist expressions. These, obviously, do not reflect the views of this author, or, even necessarily, the character who uses them.

Thanks, as usual to everyone who has reviewed or made this a story alert/favourite story. Welcome **Throwra**, **Modog**, **astari22** and **smrt1.**

**foxfire222**** - **Thanks for the comment on the characterisation. I am trying to keep it as close as possible to the actual series (both of them).

**a friend ()**– whoops! Sorry about that. I re-read the chapter and have identified the error but, I'm too lazy to change it!

**Alinaandalion** – well, we'll see how it all ends, but I promise you it will be exciting!

**Peppymint**** – **thanks, I hope this chapter maintains your faith in the story.

**Tawnyleaf** – hope you enjoyed your hols. Sorry that this chapter is more serious than some others I have written.

**W.S.C. Magica De Spell**** – **sorry for the delay.

**nas2439**** – **no it's not bad for you to want the plan to go south so Eliot Spencer has to come in and save the day but you'll have to wait and see what happens!

**Chapter 10**

Captain Cragen, Alex Cabot and George Huang had all convened in the Captain's office.

"He can't be serious!" Alex burst out. "There is no way I can convince even the U.S. jurisdictions with wants or warrants out against them to grant full amnesty, let alone the foreign ones!"

"He's not." George Huang replied calmly. "He's playing for time."

"If Ms. Devereaux and Mr Spencer don't testify, we don't have a case." Cragen pointed out. "I thought you said he saw himself as one of the good guys? Do you think he's willing to let the guys who tried to rape a member of his crew walk in order to ensure his people's freedom or do you think he's planning a little street justice?"

Huang frowned in concentration. "His M.O. up to now has been to trick his targets into compromising themselves and then to call in the police." He said. "But, as far as I am aware, none of his people have been targeted before. The fact that he selected Mr Spencer, who has the most serious record of violent crime, to exchange for our people may indicate that he's using us to identify the perps and then planning for Mr Spencer to deal with them. On the other hand, you also suggested Mr Spencer for the hostage exchange because of the assistance he could give to the investigation and Mr Ford could have been thinking along similar lines. What I do know for certain is that Mr Ford excels in what is called lateral thinking, so whatever he's planning, it won't be obvious. If we're to beat him we need to start thinking laterally too."

"Speaking of Spencer," Alex Cabot observed, "he's a bird in the hand. If Ford sees himself as a good guy will he hurt Olivia and Elliot if we don't return him?"

Huang considered. "It's unlikely." He finally said.

"You may we willing to take that risk but I'm not!" Cragen burst out.

An urgent knock on the door interrupted further discussion. All three turned to see Fin Tutuola standing outside. He held something in his hand and looked excited. Cragen waved him in, automatically checking that Spencer was still sitting across the bull-pen busy with the mug books and could not have overheard the earlier conversation.

"I think we got a lead, Cap." The detective said as he came in. He waved the paper he was holding and Cragen recognised it as one of the line drawings. "A cop in the 17th Precinct recognised this guy as a local low-life, name of Kyle McLachlan, lot of petty juvie stuff. Looks like he's movin' up the rankings!"

Cragen turned towards Alex Cabot. "Do we have enough to bring him in?" he asked.

The A.D.A shook her head. "Get a picture of him and put it in a photo array. If Spencer identifies him, then we got enough." She said.

* * *

Sophie sashayed into the La Cantina del Norte restaurant, wearing a mink coat over a revealing black dress heavily decorated with sequins. The overall effect was what Hardison had earlier described as trailer-park chic but the look was absolutely right for the persona she had adopted; behind her was Nate, wearing a bolo tie, cowboy boots and a Stetson hat. Parker hung on his arm. She was dressed to accentuate her youth and looked every inch like a child bride and trophy wife, right down to the large and expensive looking pendant she wore.

Sophie surveyed the restaurant. It was an unpromising place. The table-clothes were old, tatty and stained with the accidents of thousands of diners, while the wooden bar was scarred and splintering. This was, very definitely, at the opposite end of Morales' restaurant empire to 'Cuba Libre'.

The place was empty, except for Morales himself and two of his goons. Their mark was sitting at a table towards the back, drinking red wine, while his goons were standing behind him, on guard. They looked over her party and she noticed their eyes linger on both herself and Parker with something more than professional interest. Pretending to ignore them she continued on towards Morales, coming to a halt in front of his table.

"Wa'all, Senor Morales, it's a real pleasure seeing you again." She drawled in her best Texan accent, sitting down opposite him without invitation. Nate took the other chair, while Parker remained standing, taking a position directly behind and to one side of Nate.

Nate grinned and, without asking for permission, grabbed the bottle of wine on front of Morales and used it to fill his and Sophie's glasses. The goons moved forward but Morales signalled them to remain where they were. He sat back and contemplated his guests.

"You seem to have suffered injury since we last met, Senorina La Belle." He noted.

Sophie fingered the healing, but still visible, cuts and bruises she had received during the attack. "Why yes." she replied, "Our customers can sometimes be very…difficult, but he saw the error of his ways after my… err security people had finished with him."

Morales grinned, wolfishly. He pointed to an almost imperceptible scar on his neck. "The bastardo who did this. He is, alas, no longer in this world."

"Yeah, this is all very nice." Interrupted Nate. "But can we get down to business?"

Morales nodded. "In a minute, Senor Hackett. If you will just allow my men..." He nodded towards his goons, who moved forward. "Just a precaution." He added.

Nate gave them an irritated glance, then shrugged as he stood up, an amused expression on his face. "Be gentle boys, I'm ticklish!" He raised his arms and allowed the goons to pat him down.

Sophie also stood and allowed herself to be searched but, when one of the goons rested his hand on the inside of her thigh, she grabbed his wrist and twisted, hard. "You don't go there sweety-pie unless you pay and I'm bettin' you ain't got enough dough to buy any piece of Passion La Belle."

The man looked murderous but, after a glance at his boss, he moved on to Parker. "And that's Mr. Hackett's property so don't paw the merchandise without his permission." Sophie called out.

The goon must have taken notice of the warning because the search of Parker took place without incident.

"So, Hector, darling, as you can see, we're not wired or strapped." Sophie said.

Morales made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "I apologise. It would not have been the first time the cops have tried to set me up." He replied.

"Wa'll, now you're satisfied shall we discuss the business Jedidiah here was talkin' 'bout?" Sophie asked, as she carefully smoothed out her dress, accidentally on purpose revealing even more of her bare flesh, before re-seating herself.

"Yes. I have completed my background research Senorina La Belle, as I promised at our last meeting. Or should I call you Mrs Jean Rogers?"

Sophie laughed. "Ah see you have been very thorough. It's Ms. La Belle, but, seeing as how I hope we'll be doing business together, you-all can call me Passion. Little ole' Jean was a girl from the wrong side of the tracks in Austin, Texas and Mr Rogers has been out of the picture for years. He could be dead in some gutter for all I know or care! I take it you'all can see the advantages of establishing a…working relationship with me?"

Morales nodded. "Si, you are the owner of record of the Love-Shack, one of the most profitable brothels' in Nevada, But, this I do not understand. Prostitution is legal there, why do you risk everything by trading in err…fresh produce?"

"And you are the owner of a very profitable chain of restaurants, Hector. Why do you risk that by dealing in coke?" Sophie smiled, knowingly. "I checked you out as well, ya see before I got Jedidiah here to approach you. The fact is, we're both in the business of giving the customer what they want and I got patrons, who prefer their pleasure, as you say… fresh; very wealthy and generous patrons."

Morales leaned back and openly studied Parker. "From what Senor Hackett was telling me earlier, you haven't had any problems in err…sourcing locally. Why come to New York; to me, now?"

"Yeah, in the past, we've been able to find fresh fruit like ma' darlin' Jodine here but that well's dryin' up." Nate replied, taking a long slurp from his wine glass. "What with the Adam Welsh Act and all that crap and the Feds taking an interest; it's getting' too dangerous picking from our own backyard. Anyone found with …early U.S. fruit… would be put away for the rest of their life, if they weren't lynched first, but some greaser wetback? The way things are in Nevada and the surrounding States, they'd probably get a medal for services to the nation!"

Morales expression froze at Nate's use of the derogatory term for those of his background but he kept his temper and leaned forwards, placing his hands on the table, "If those are your views Senor Hackett, I am surprised you would want to do business with me."

Nate grinned and made a dismissive gesture. "Hey, business is business and besides, you're a refugee from commie Cuba, right?"

"I think we're getting away from the point here, ya-all." Sophie intervened. "We need kids aged fourteen or under, kids whose disappearance won't be noticed. My clients prefer long-term relationships so they can mould them to their specific requirements and will pay well for the privilege. Can you supply them, Hector?"

Morales stared at her, consideringly, for a long time. Finally, he replied. "Perhaps; how many and how much were you thinking of paying for them?"

The bargaining began.

* * *

Elliot and Olivia sat in the van watching Hardison as he fiddled with the controls, bringing up two moving images of the restaurant's interior. They looked at each other, in surprise, as the sound of the conversation came over the speakers, clearly and without distortion,

Impressed despite himself, Elliot looked questioningly at the Hacker. "How are you doing that?" he asked.

The Hacker turned and Olivia could see he was pleased with the reaction he was getting. "Parker's pendant and Nate's tie pin both contain miniaturised digital video cameras with wide angled lenses. They pick up and stream sound and images right back here. This is state of the art technology baby, designed and built by yours truly! Even the C.I.A. doesn't have anything like this yet!" he added, proudly.

Both detectives tensed as Sophie, Parker and Nate submitted to the search, then relaxed when nothing was found. Noticing their reaction, Hardison grinned. "Chill out, guys, they wouldn't have found the cameras even if they'd used sensors. I'm the best!"

Olivia leaned forward concentrating on the discussion. "They need to be careful, we don't want Morales' lawyer to claim entrapment later." She said, worriedly.

Hardison waved her concern away. "Don't worry. They know what they're doin'." He replied.

The Hacker and the two detectives listened in silence for a while, then Elliot's curiosity overcame him. "Morales said he did a background check on Sophie. How did you convince him that she is the owner of this brothel?"

Hardison grinned. "Not Sophie, Ms Passion la Belle. It was easy!" Hardison typed a few commands and a web page appeared on a spare monitor showing some scantily clad women posing seductively. "This is the genuine web site for the Love-Shack" He clicked and another page appeared, entitled 'A Welcome from Madame La Belle'. It showed a picture of Sophie in character. Once I'd hacked it, all I had to do was cut the real picture and paste in one of Sophie. Then add a few news items, blog entries and comments in Forums and, abracadabra, you got yourself an internet trail that will be picked up by any decent search engine! The thing with the 'Net, is that it makes people lazy. Why pay P.I's when you can just type in the search term and the Net spits out results in seconds?" He paused and considered. "I _am_ proud of Mrs Jean Rogers though. I real masterpiece, even if I say so myself! She was the piece d'resistance!"

Olivia was listening to the conversation in the restaurant. "Why children?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"Why bait your trap with child prostitutes? Morales is an established drug dealer. If your objective is to bring him down, why not just set up a drug deal? That's his comfort zone. So, I ask again, why children?"

Hardisons face took on a closed expression. "That's something you'll have to ask Nate 'bout. He's the man with the plan." He replied, making it clear that he did not wish to pursue the topic any further.

Olivia and Elliot exchanged glances.

Then Elliot nodded towards the screen. "Talking about Nate, are you sure he's going to be O.K.?" he asked. "He's knocking back that wine like its cherry soda."

Hardison glanced towards the screen, where the camera in Nate's tie was showing him, once again, refilling his empty wine glass. "He'll be fine. He's run cons when he's been a helluva lot drunker than he is now." He said, shortly.

But both detectives noticed that he appeared much more serious and that he watched the screen more closely though.

Conversation lapsed as all three listened to the bargaining going on in the restaurant. Finally, they heard Sophie say "That's a deal! Jedidiah and I will want to personally select the first batch. When and where?"

Hardison let out a whoop of joy and raised his open palm towards Elliot in a high five motion. He dropped it, looking disappointed, as Elliot just stared at him.

* * *

Eliot Spencer glanced at the photographs laid out before him. He picked up one. "That's one of the guys I saw attacking Sophie." He said.

"You're sure?" Fin Tutuola asked.

"I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't." Eliot replied.

"O.K. Pick him up." Ordered Captain Cragen, who had been hovering,

"_Stall them."_ Nate's voice echoed through Eliot's earbud.

Eliot leaned forward. "Hey guys, I know this is your thing, but if you bring him in, won't that alert the others involved? There were five of them remember."

"He'll give them up." Munch assured the Hitter.

"Maybe, if you give him a deal." Eliot agreed. "I don't know 'bout you, but I'd like to see all these scumbags locked up for a very long time."

Cragen considered. Offering deals to rapists stuck in his craw. "Set up a stake-out on McLachlan." He finally ordered. "I want to know everyone he meets, everything he eats and every time he goes to the bathroom."

"_Stay tight on the surveillance team." _Nate's voice came over the earbud again.

"Then you'll want me along." Eliot said. "Seeing Cragen was about to say no, he added. "So I can identify the other rapists as soon as possible."

Cragen nodded reluctant agreement.

**T.B.C.**


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the delay in posting, my computer crashed. Fortunately I had my work backed up but it took a bit of time to get everything sorted out. Anyway, here is the new chapter for this story.

Thanks, as ever, to everyone who is following this, especially those who have taken the time to review, **W.S.C. Magica De Spell, nas2439, alinaandalion** (I hope I don't let you down),

Welcome to **MagzMC, Ladybug Jess, Kaat Shadowlover, BlueRosemary, Sway132073, Gertrud-Eveline, wuoreb and PigBaby Jen**, all of whom have added this to their story alerts, favourites since the last chapter was posted.

Now, here we go…

**Chapter 11**

The crew had returned to the penthouse and were now enjoying some R and R. Sophie had disappeared into her bedroom announcing that she wanted a nice long soak in a hot bath, Hardison was watching the Sports Channel while Nate sat in an armchair, alternatively reading the New York Times and glancing towards the T.V. screen, the ever present whisky glass on a low table beside him. Olivia and Elliot had offered to cook for their 'hosts' and Parker, who did not appear to be able to settle, wandered between the kitchen and the main reception room.

Olivia was removing ingredients from the cupboards and fridge when Parker returned from her most recent visit to the other room. "Do you think spaghetti would be O.K. for everyone?" the detective asked the thief. "Elliot does a mean sauce. It's about the only thing he can cook!"

The other woman considered. "Yeah, everyone likes spaghetti." She decided, helping herself to a large bowl of cereal. She stood and looked as if she wanted to say something but, instead, poured milk over her cereal and spooned up a large mouthful before wandering back to the reception room.

Elliot, who was taking the minced meat out of its container, glanced towards her disappearing body. "What's wrong with her?" He asked.

"This operation would be my guess." Olivia replied. "I suspect it's too close to her own experiences for her to feel comfortable. I don't know what Ford is thinking, making her re-live her abuse in this way!" she suddenly burst out.

"He's a driven man." Her partner said.

The sound of Parker's voice came from the other room and Olivia and Elliot broke off their conversation to stand in the doorway and listen. They saw Parker crouched down in front of Ford.

"You're not really a pervert are you, Nate?" Parker was asking, anxiously.

The Leverage boss looked down at the young thief. His voice was re-assuring but Olivia thought she detected a note of irritation as he replied. "No Parker. I'm not really a pervert. Its part of the con, remember? We discussed this, you, me and Sophie?"

"Oh yeah! So you don't really …you know…like young girls?"

"No, I don't. Not in that way."

Parker nodded, apparently satisfied. "Good. 'Cause if you had, I'd have had to kill you and I don't want to do that!"

The two detectives looked at each other, struck by the violence of her statement. At that moment, neither doubted that she would have done exactly as she had said.

"Parker," Sophie's voice came, gently, from the opposite doorway. "Why don't you and I have some girl time together?"

Parker nodded and left the room with the Grifter. After they had gone, Ford looked towards the kitchen doorway and saw the detectives. He raised his eyebrows.

Neither chose to mention the incident they had just witnessed.

Olivia said. "We're making spaghetti. Parker said that would be O.K. for everyone. Ready to eat in an hour?"

Ford nodded. "I'll look out a nice wine."

Elliot glanced towards the whisky glass. "Are you sure you need to drink any more?" he asked, loudly. He looked, meaningfully, at the, now empty glass. "You had almost a full bottle of red wine when you were with Morales and that must be your third whisky, at least, since we got back."

Ford shrugged. "I'm not counting." He said, before getting up and refilling the glass with a generous measure. "Why are you?"

Elliot retreated back into the kitchen but not before glancing towards the Hacker. He saw from the set of the other man's shoulders that, although his gaze had not left the T.V, screen, he had heard every word of the exchange.

* * *

Eliot Spencer glared out of the window of the car, irritated by police procedure. Had this been his crew, Parker would have already broken into McLachlan's apartment, planted a bug and they would have been watching and listening to his activities from the comparative comfort of Lucille Mark II. Now, he had been stuck in the passenger seat of an unmarked police car for over four hours, watching the front door of their target's apartment building, not knowing when their target would leave it, or even if he would. Add to this that his companion gave every indication that he would have preferred the company of almost anyone else in the world on this stake-out and he was not a happy man. He cursed under his breath. _'Damn Nate and his plans!' _He understood that, as things had developed, his presence here was necessary if they were to rescue Maria Sanchez but that did not mean that he had to like it.

He tried, once again, to start a conversation with Detective Tutuola. "So, ya think he's goanna come out tonight?"

The African-American turned towards him. "Bored already, Mr Spencer?" he asked, sarcastically before shrugging. "He either will or he won't. I'm bettin' that left to yourself you'd have busted down his door and beat the information outa' him but cops can't do that. We have to do things the hard way and obey the law."

Eliot sighed inwardly. _'I'm batting zero for three here,'_ he thought. Every time he had tried to open a dialogue with the man, he had received a similar self righteous comment designed to squelch further attempts at conversation. He glanced back towards the apartment building and tensed. "McLachlan's comin' out." He reported.

Detective Tutuola leaned over to check the sighting for himself, then radioed his partner, who was staking out the rear exit and fire escape. McLachlan turned left and began walking along the street. The two men watched as Munch came out of an alley and began casually following him.

Eliot made to get out of the car but Tutuola restrained him. "We're the back-up. We stay here until they're out of sight, then we follow at a distance. Munch and I will change places in a while so McLachlan won't guess he's bein' tailed. You will _not_ take an active part in this investigation. You are only here to see if you can identify his accomplices and you will stay in the car at all times."

Seething with frustration at being denied the chance of action, Eliot waited for the detective to start the car.

* * *

Olivia looked round. She was at a loose end. Dinner had finished. As before, the conversation had been confined to general topics. When she and Elliot had tried to question Ford about his choice of scenario, the man had politely refused, using the excuse that business should not be discussed at the dinner table. Despite this, the atmosphere had, once again, been pleasant with most of the crew making every effort to draw them into their small talk. The only odd note had been Parker's behaviour. On the surface she had seemed more relaxed after her time with Sophie but her distrust of Elliot and herself seemed to have been re-awakened. She had been abnormally quiet and Olivia had caught her glancing suspiciously towards them when she thought they weren't looking. She wondered what Sophie had said to her to cause this setback.

Immediately after dinner Ford, followed by Sophie, had disappeared into the study, where they still remained. Hardison had offered to clean up and the rattle of dirty dishes being placed into the dishwasher could be heard coming from the kitchen. Parker had remained with them and she was currently sitting on the floor in front of the T.V. laughing softly to herself at the antics of Wylie Coyote on the Cartoon Network. Although she did not appear to be paying attention to her "guests" activities, her presence prevented she and Elliot from talking freely. Fortunately, they had had time to share impressions and review the situation after they had been left alone in the kitchen following Parker's disappearance with Sophie.

Olivia glanced towards her partner, who was sitting in an armchair behind Parker also watching the cartoon. He looked back and gave her a slight smile before returning his attention to the screen. She was not in the mood to enjoy a cartoon so she picked up the copy of the New York Times Nate Ford had been reading earlier. It was open at the Arts and Culture Section. She noticed, in passing, that an internationally renowned art expert was due to give a series of lectures at the Metropolitan Museum of Art to mark the opening of a major exhibition of paintings by the Dutch Masters in a few days and wondered if the Federal fugitive's interest in the exhibition was professional or cultural before turning to the front page. She moved over the sofa furthest away from the T.V., sat down and began catching up on the news.

Sometime later Sophie re-appeared and came to sit next to her on the sofa.

"Not a T.V. watcher or just not a fan of cartoons, Olivia?" The Grifter asked, nodding towards Parker and Elliot.

Olivia put down the paper. This was an opportunity to work on the Grifter and the news was depressing anyway. "I have to be in the mood." she replied. "What about you, Sophie?"

The two women began a conversation, which soon moved from television programming to other areas.

* * *

_**Fifteen minutes earlier**_

"Nate, I've talked to Parker." Sophie said. "She'll be fine but you've seen the way she reacts to the mistreatment of children. I'm sure you've drawn your own conclusions. We're stirring up memories she'd prefer to forget."

"Yeah, but I thought that she wanted to do this job. She was the one who couldn't wait to get started!"

"That was before she knew the role she was going to be playing in this con!" Sophie's voice was sharp as she replied. "You know how out of control she was during the Romanian Orphanage job, well this one is even worse for her! It would have been better not to have cast her as a victim. It strikes too close to home."

"I needed a convincer. I couldn't just go in there and hope that Morales would believe that I was the front man for a group of wealthy paedophiles. Parker is the only one who could pass as young enough!" The Leverage boss protested.

Sophie nodded. "I know, and I also know we have to play that angle to have a hope of finding Maria Sanchez but I'm just pointing out the effect it's having on Parker…" she paused, "…and the cops saw her reaction. We've been playing up the Robin Hood angle to persuade them to hold off until we've taken down Morales. Now they've heard her threaten murder. It's undermined our efforts. I think we should tell them about Maria. They're sex cops, they'll be automatically sympathetic."

Nate shook his head. "She's illegal and so are her family. We can't take that risk. Have you spoken with Detective Benson yet? We need to find out what makes her tick."

Sophie sighed, accepting his decision. "No. I was planning to after I'd spoken with you." I'll also use the opportunity to try to re-build some of the trust we lost."

"Good." Nate replied. "Let me know what you find out." His voice had a definite note of dismissal about it and Sophie took the hint.

She rose and turned towards the door. "Just one other thing," she said as her hand went out towards the handle, "I told Parker about the cops plans to arrest us after we'd given them Morales. I thought it was dangerous to keep her in the dark any longer. Given her current state, if she had found out on her own…" Her voice trailed off into silence.

Nate's mouth twitched in a slight grimace but he nodded his understanding of the Grifter's decision. As she left the room, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled down the numbers on his speed dial. Finding the one he wanted, he hit the button, put the cell to his ear and waited for it to be answered.

* * *

Elliot Stabler sat in an arm chair behind Parker as she watched the T.V. He had been shocked by her earlier threat to Ford although it confirmed their suspicions about her childhood. He studied her as she appeared engrossed in the cartoon, laughing as Wylie Coyote, once again, came to grief, just as his own children had done. She had the emotional maturity of a child, he realised. He wondered who had so damaged her and felt the familiar anger threaten to overcome him but he fought it back. Perhaps there was a chance that Parker would open up at some point and whoever had done this to her would get what was coming to them but, here and now, he had to deal with the result of their actions.

When he had joined the S.V.U., it had all seemed so simple, so black and white, but the longer he stayed the more he realised that it was often about shades of grey, victims became perps and their victims became perps in their turn. It was an endless cycle but his job was to deal with the present. Parker was violent and dangerous. People needed to be protected from her. He and Olivia had been allowing themselves to be unconsciously lulled into accepting the Robin Hood crap this crew had been selling them. They had to keep their guard up against that for the duration and turn up the screw on their attempts to undermine the team's unity. He sensed his partner looking over and half smiled towards her before, once again, turning his attention back to Parker.

* * *

It was late evening and Captain Cragen was sitting in his office with George Huang waiting to hear the results of their stake out from Fin or Munch.

"Was I right in letting Spencer go on the stake-out or was I playing into Ford's hands somehow?" Cragen asked the F.B.I. psychiatrist.

Huang gave him a considering look, before answering with a shrug. "I've been wondering the same thing. I doubt if we'll know until this entire thing plays out."

'_In for a penny…'_Cragen thought. "You're a shrink, Doc. Can't you guess?"

The other man shrugged again. "As I said before, Ford is a lateral thinker. It's a skill that, unfortunately, doesn't come easily to me, but I may have something else. I've been thinking about what Elliot said during the video conference. He said he was "living high". I think he was trying to send us a message."

Cragen thought about it. It made sense. Elliot was not the sort of guy who would just sit back quietly. "So what did he mean?" he asked. "Was he trying to tell us they were somewhere high up or that wherever they were was high end?"

"Possibly both?" Huang suggested. "He did add 'in every sense.'"

"It's something." Cragen acknowledged. "And it's better than letting Ford lead us around by our noses. So, we should probably start with luxury apartment blocks. I'll get on to the City Surveyors' Office first thing in the morning!"

**T.B.C.**


	12. Chapter 12

Here is Chapter 12. Sorry for the delay in posting, there's quite a lot going on in my life currently.

Thanks to the following people who have added me as a favourite or story alert since I last posted, **raven5189**, **Rai** and **ZoidYugi**,

Thanks also to everyone who has reviewed, namely **peppymint**, **W.S.C. Magica De Spell****, a friend (), Rai **(again**), **

**Chapter 12**

Using all the tricks of the con artist's trade to alter his body language from the night that Sophie was attacked Eliot Spencer strolled casually into the bar. The bar-keep glanced up, his eyes asking a question.

"Bourbon, straight." He ordered before turning casually to look round the room. It was not the sort of place where you took someone you wanted to impress, definitely a hang-out for people who took their drinking seriously.

The tailing of McLachlan had ended with him disappearing into this bar. Detectives Tutuola, Munch and he had waited outside but, after an hour or more, they had reached the conclusion that he was going to be there for the night. At that point he had used all his powers of persuasion to convince the SVU detectives to allow him to reconnoitre the place. The clincher had come when he had pointed out that their man could be meeting up with his fellow rapists to plan another crime and only he could positively identify them.

McLachlan was sitting in a corner, knocking back a beer, laughing and joking with a group of four other men and Eliot felt his heart beat faster as he recognised them as the rest of Sophie's would be rapists. With an effort he kept his anger reined and allowed his eyes to pass over them as if they were just part of the scenery. Hearing the sound of his drink being placed on the bar he turned back.

"I'm lookin' for a guy called Joe. He still drink here?" He asked conversationally.

The bar tender shrugged. "A lot of guys called Joe come in here. Why are you looking for him?"

"Owes me money from way back. I want to collect."

"Been away, huh?" The barman leered.

"What's it to you if I have? I'm looking for Joe. Big guy, balding, got a belly on him that comes through the door five minutes before he does."

The bar-keep considered. "Naw, I don't know that Joe."

"OK." Having provided a reason for his visit, Eliot swallowed the whisky and walked out. As he reached the door, he muttered _"I've got them. They're at Murphy's Tavern now. 119__th__ Street. Doesn't look like they're going anywhere anytime soon."_

He heard Nate's voice clearly over the ear-bud. "_Good. Don't tell the cops. We'll take over from here_."

"_Got it._" He replied, tersely.

"Recognise anyone?" Detective Munch asked, when he returned to the car.

Eliot shook his head, feigning frustration. "No,"

"Don't worry. It's only a matter of time." The detective sounded sympathetic as he reassured him. "You gave them a scare when you did your Batman impression and they've probably decided to scatter for a while but all my experience in sex crimes tells me that it'll only be temporary. Once they start victimising women, they can't stop."

Eliot felt like a heel for lying to this man, who clearly cared about his job and protecting victims. He forced back the fear that another woman would be raped, or worse, because of his actions. He trusted Nate to know what he was doing; he _had_ to trust Nate to know what he was doing.

Detective Tutuola, gave him a piercing glance, obviously more suspicious than his partner. "O.K. Just got word from the Captain. He's sending another team to take over from us. When they arrive, we're going back in."

Eliot nodded his understanding and settled back into the car seat to think and to worry.

* * *

"O.K." Cragen said, staring at the maps on his desk. "So, we got the Financial District, the river shore by High Line Park, most of Park Avenue, the area around Broadway and Fulton Street and 7th Avenue up near the Park."

Huang nodded. "Yeah, according to the latest Department of the Census data, those are the areas with the highest concentrations of people with annual incomes of $500,000 plus." He shrugged, "In order to keep it manageable I've assumed that Ford and his Team are in a neighbourhood that's already established as an enclave for the very wealthy. There could be luxury apartments elsewhere in the city but people with that sort of money tend to congregate together so I'm betting that they're somewhere within one of those areas."

"So," Cragen mused, "we need to identify all the high rise apartment blocks in those areas. The question now is, how do we define that term in a city full of tall buildings?"

Huang gave him a half smile. "Who said it was going to be easy?" he asked. "How about we start by looking at any building fifteen stories or up and any others significantly taller than the buildings around it?"

Cragen nodded. "It's a start." He agreed. He tapped the map. "The thing about the very rich is that they like to keep themselves and their money safe so most of these places will have security of some sort. I'll talk to the Captains in these Precincts and ask them to get their uniforms to discreetly check out all the places fitting the criteria."

He picked up the phone.

* * *

Hardison, Olivia, Elliot Stabler and Parker sat in Lucille Mark II and watched through the video feed as Nate and Sophie walked into the La Cantina del Norte restaurant.

Morales' call had come in at around midnight, shortly after Nate Ford and Parker had returned from some mysterious mission. The conversation had been short, simply an instruction for them to meet him at the restaurant at 8 o'clock the following morning. Nate had wanted to bring Parker along but Sophie had been insistent that she had already fulfilled her role as a convincer and was no longer required. She had won the argument.

"So, Hector, where's the merchandise?" Nate asked, looking around, once again fully into his Jedidiah Hackett persona.

Morales ignored him. "Senorina La Belle, if you and your…associate will put these on." He gestured towards his two goons, who were holding hoods.

Sophie glanced towards them. "Hector, I thought we had made good progress yesterday in developing a business relationship based on trust." She purred. "And this all is telling me that you still don't trust us."

"I must insist, Senorina… Passion. It is not that I don't trust you but a man would be a fool to give all his secrets away so early in any…relationship. Please humour me. I'm afraid I must insist."

Nate glanced towards the hoods. "Hell with it!" he exclaimed, grabbing one and putting it over his head. "Shish, a coupla eye holes and I'd look like something outa The Da Vinci Code!"

_Elliot Stabler turned to Hardison, who was monitoring the video feed. "He's taking them somewhere else. Can you track them through that gizmo?"_

_The Hacker shook his head. "No." He said, tersely. "Parker?"_

"_On it!" _

_The two detectives watched as the thief palmed something and smartly left the van._

"_Where's she going?" Olivia asked._

"_What's she goanna do?" her partner said at the same time._

_Hardison waved for silence and spoke into the mike. "Nate, Sophie, stall them!"_

_He turned to the detectives. "Wait and you'll see." He told them before returning to the video feed._

_Elliot and Olivia looked at each other sharing a grimace of frustration before looking back to the monitor themselves. _

"How long do you expect us to wear these things?" Nate's voice, muffled by the hood, was asking.

"Until we reach where we are going." Morales replied.

Sophie gazed, disdainfully, at the hood the goon was holding out to her. "That's goanna muss up my hair." She said. "Do you know how much I paid to have it styled?"

"And it looks magnificent, Passion, carino!" Morales said, gallantly. "But sacrifices have to be made and you will be able to afford to have it done a thousand times more with the money you will make from our arrangement!"

"Hey," Nate raised the front of the hood so he could see out. "How do we know this isn't some double-cross? How do we know you're not goanna take us someplace quiet and waste us?"

Morales shrugged. "You don't. But, as you said yesterday, this is a business opportunity that benefits us both. Why should I ruin it by killing you? Besides, I'm sure that your …wife…knows that you are meeting me and, even if she, herself, doesn't care whether you live or die, I am certain your business associates will have no difficulty in extracting the information from her. I do not want a war."

_The doors of the van quietly opened and Parker slipped back in like a wraith, giving a thumbs up sign to Hardison, who spoke into the mike._

"_O.K."_

"Wa'll lets do it then." Sophie said. She looked again at the hood. "That'd better be clean!" she added, before taking it from the goon and carefully placing it over her head.

The video feed lost focus as the goons came up close to Sophie and Nate, ensuring that the hoods were firmly in place. Then the picture resolved itself to show Morales staring at the camera, He turned and began walking towards the kitchen and the back entrance.

The camera jerked forward, after him.

"Hey!" Nate's voice said. "No need to push me like that. "I bruise easily!"

_The contingent in Lucille Mark II realised that the goons were guiding him and Sophie. They watched as Morales and the others passed through the kitchen and out to the back alley, where a van, similar to Lucille was parked. Sophie and Nate were assisted into the back and guided to seats, then the doors were closed, leaving the watchers' with a view of the van's interior. Morales sat himself down opposite and knocked, twice, on the rear wall. The van began to pull off._

"_So, what do we do now?" Elliot Stabler asked._

_With a flourish, Hardison minimised the feed from the van and pulled up a street map of Manhattan. He zoomed in to the neighbourhood around the restaurant and both detectives saw a blinking blue light leaving the alleyway and pulling on to the street, just around the corner from them._

"_You low-jacked the van!" Olivia exclaimed._

"_How did you find it?" Elliot asked._

_Hardison was scrambling to reach the driving seat so it was Parker who answered._

"_It was easy. Morales must have had a vehicle nearby or he would have waited before asking them to put on the hoods. He couldn't bring them out through the front. Even around here three guys hustling a hooded man and women into a vehicle might attract attention so that only left the back entrance."_

"_What if the vehicles hadn't been there?" Olivia asked. "Suppose he had intended to call the driver once he had them hooded then wait for him to arrive?"_

_Parker shrugged. "Then I would have thought of something else." She replied. "But he didn't so why worry about something that never happened?"_

"_O.K." Hardison's voice called from the driver's seat as the van pulled out from the curb. "Parker, get on the monitor and tell me where to go."_

* * *

Eliot Spencer took a pull on his energy drink and stared about him. They had returned to the Squad Room after their relief had arrived. The changeover appeared to have been a routine move to prevent McLachlan suspecting that he was being followed so he was at a bit of a lose end. Judging from the way the detectives around him were behaving, they were either better con artists than Sophie or they had no suspicion that he had not been straight with them when he had said that he did not recognise McLachlan's associates. He noted the activity in Captain Cragen's office and wondered what was going on there and whether it had anything to do with him and the others. If it did, he needed to find out but, unfortunately, he could not just walk in on them. That set him wondering what Nate and the others were doing and what plan Nate had in mind that did not involve them having to give evidence in court with all it's consequences.

As he sat there, A.D.A Alex Cabot came out of the office and walked across the room heading towards the exit. He casually got up and wandered towards her.

"Hi, again." He said, with a grin he knew women found irresistible.

**T.B.C**.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks once again everyone for your support for this story. I'm sorry about the delay in updating.

Welcome to the following people who have added this to their story alerts/favourites since the last posting – **WhiskeySkye** and **KJA** and thanks to **W.S.C. Magica De Spell** for their review.

And now, Chapter 13…

**Chapter 1****3**

The van jerked to a halt and Nate's hood was ripped off. He looked over at Sophie and saw hers had already been removed. She was critically examining her make-up and hair for signs of possible damage in a small compact she had taken from her purse.

She glanced over towards him. "You OK there Jedidiah?" she asked.

"Yeah. Jeez, it's like bein' in some old spy movie!" He added, glaring at Morales.

The drug dealer ignored him, intent on studying Sophie's body, which was arranged in that subtly sensual way that Sophie was a master of.

The doors at the back of the van swung open and Morales dragged his eyes away. He scrambled out. "Senorina La Belle, Passion…allow me." he said, holding out his hand to assist Sophie as she followed him. His body was a little too close and he kept hold of her hand a little too long after she had completed the manoeuvre. Sophie, however, gave him a wide smile as she thanked him.

Nate was left to exit the vehicle without assistance. He stood up and surveyed his surroundings. The van was parked on a strip of wasteland surrounded by dilapidated, boarded up buildings apart from a small gap containing a narrow, overgrown track down which the van had driven. There was nothing there to give him any clue to their location but, in the distance, he could hear the rumblings of a train and the hooting of a ship's horn. Fortunately he didn't have to work out where they were from the scant clues available as Hardison and Parker had kept up a running commentary throughout the journey. As his eyes roved across the scene, he wondered where they were hiding.

As if able to read his mind, Parker's voice came through the ear-bud. _"Don't worry, Nate. We've got your back."_

He looked around but could see no sign of the small thief, not that he expected to. Her ability to make herself invisible was almost magical.

"This way." Morales gestured towards one of the buildings. He offered Sophie his arm and she took it, leaning into him.

Nate watched the by-play as he followed them, his expression carefully non-committal. He hated this part of the con. It was necessary for Sophie to seduce the mark, but seeing her smile and act the temptress with another man set off feelings he tried to deny.

As Morales led them to the building he had indicated, a man with a large dog, on a leash, came out of one of the other buildings.

"Buenos dias, Boss." He greeted Morales. The animal he led was thin but well muscled. It bared its teeth and snarled at them, straining against the restraint. "Bruno, basta ya!" the man shouted, jerking violently on the leash as he took out a set of keys with his other hand and inserted one into the lock on the metal door of the building.

Nate cast a professional eye over the set up. _'Perimeter security, strong door and a good, but not top of the range, lock. It would be difficult to break in if we needed to but not impossible." _He mused. Then began worrying. Parker was in the vicinity and she was erratic, at best, in cases involving children.

The metal door clanged open and they were escorted inside. The guard did not accompany them; instead he slammed the door shut behind them and locked them in. Nate looked round and found they were in a kind of ante-chamber with a set of barred gates in front of them. The set up reminded him unpleasantly of his time in prison. Another man got up from a chair, which was set against the wall, where he could see anyone approaching the gates. With a nod to Morales he unlocked them, let the group walk through and then locked the gates behind them. They walked down the corridor, Morales leading the way, still holding Sophie close. As they got deeper into the building sounds of activity could heard. Nate could make out the hum of some sort of electric powered machinery punctuated by shouts and an occasional thump followed by a scream. As they walked the smell of unwashed human bodies grew stronger.

'_We're in a sweatshop staffed by illegals.' _Nate guessed. Well, that made sense, pre-adolescent children, with their small, nimble hands, were perfect for work requiring manual dexterity and had been used for such during the early years of the Industrial Revolution.

They were now passing open doors showing rooms with soiled mattresses strewn on filthy floors and broken sanitary ware. The smell of human waste and sweat was overwhelming as they turned a corner into a massive open area where pale, thin women and children bent over sewing machines, while others struggled with heavy bolts of cloth. The windows were all boarded up and the only light came from a few low wattage bulbs hanging from ceiling cords. Apart from a few, frightened glances the slave workers ignored their arrival, other than to bend lower over their machines.

"Manuel!" Morales called and a fat man carrying a heavy stick looked round from where he had been shouting at a couple of boys, who could not have been older than twelve, to be more careful with the bolt of fabric they were carrying.

"Si, Senor Morales." he said as he hurried over. "I have selected twenty candidates of the right age, as you instructed. They are ready for inspection. This way."

Working hard to hide his anger at the exploitation these people were suffering, Nate followed the man into a side room, where ten boys and girls were huddled against a wall. Looking at them, Nate guessed that the youngest was about nine and the oldest fourteen, although it was hard to be sure since all bore the tell-tale signs of mal-nourishment. Efforts had been made, however, to clean them up and their skin bore the marks of recent scrubbing.

"Párese!" Manuel yelled and the children hurried to comply, their eyes cast down to the ground.

Nate was glad, now, that they hadn't brought Parker, there would have been no controlling her if she had been here and their cover would have been blown in a second. As it was, he hoped that Hardison and the cops would be able to restrain her as she saw this on the feed.

Mentally recalling the photograph of Maria Sanchez, he took out a small notebook from his pocket and followed Sophie as she began examining the children. He hoped he would be able to recognise the pretty, happy looking girl in the picture if she were among this group of thin, scared children.

* * *

Parker hissed with anger as she saw the children through the feed. She had the back door of the Lucille Mark II half open before anyone could react. Olivia grabbed her and held her, despite the young thief's struggles.

"Parker, no!"

"Let me go!" Parker said, fiercely. "Those kids are cold, hungry and scared. I'm going to get them out."

Olivia tightened her grip. The other woman's appearance was deceptive; she was a lot stronger than she looked.

Hardison crouched down in front of his colleague. "Parker." he said quietly. "Listen to me. We're goanna get them out, but we gotta stick to the plan."

Parker stopped struggling and looked the Hacker in the eye. "Promise?" she asked, looking suddenly very young and very vulnerable.

Hardison grinned. "I promise. Nate's the man with the plan, right? Remember, what that was about?"

Parker nodded, still looking at him, "Maria Sanchez, right!" She made a moue with her lips. "But we rescue the others too?"

The Hacker nodded. "We rescue the kids and the other folks and we destroy Morales." He confirmed.

Olivia and Elliot, who had been ignored during the discussion, looked at each other; this was the first they had heard that their "allies" were searching for a particular child. They wondered what this Maria Sanchez's relationship with this group of criminals was.

* * *

Sophie lifted the head of one of the girls, just over halfway down the line, and pushed down the feeling of satisfaction that washed over her. Her hair was straggly and still damp and her eyes were sunken and lacklustre, surrounded by dark smudges. They stared at her, incuriously; very different from the vibrant and animated girl in the picture they had, but this was Maria Sanchez, there was no doubt about it.

"This one too." She said.

Nate came up and joined her before making a note in the book he was carrying. He appeared calm, but she could see, from his body language, that he had recognised her as well. "Good choice, Passion." He said.

The selection process continued.

* * *

"…and down I went, wallop!"

Alex Cabot found herself smiling, almost against her will, as Eliot Spencer came to the punch-line of his story. It was becoming harder and harder to remember that the man with the disarming smile and "aw shucks" manner opposite was a violent criminal. And he was clearly intelligent. He had started the conversation by asking some very searching legal questions, had understood her answers and followed them up with relevant supplementaries. His current mode of life seemed such a waste of his abilities. She had told him that and he had grinned and responded with these amusing tales against himself.

She glanced at her watch and frowned when she realised how long she had spent listening to the man. "I've got to get back to the office." She said. Then, abruptly, "You should think over what I said. If you went straight you have everything you need to make a go of it."

Eliot sat back and gave her a sardonic glance. "After I get outa jail, huh? 'Cause of all those opportunities out there for ex cons."

"There are some good programs these days. If you co-operate, I'll do everything I can to make sure you get on one." She replied.

Eliot smiled at her. "I'll think about it." He said.

He got up and, in a gentlemanly gesture, held her outdoor coat for her to slip into. "Be seein' ya, councillor!" He squeezed her arms in an affectionate and non-threatening gesture, then stood and watched as she left the Squad-room. The bug had been successfully placed. If he could not find out directly what was going on in Cragen's office, maybe the bug would pick something up.

He felt a prickle on the back of his neck and turned to see the Captain watching him through the glass in his office. He nodded towards the man, Cragen nodded back, stiffly and turned back to his work leaving Eliot to worry, again, about where the rest of his crew were and what they were doing.

The remainder of the crew and their NYPD allies were back in the luxury penthouse holding a debrief.

"We can raid that hell hole now." Elliot Stabler argued. "Shut it down. Rescue those kids. We got the evidence."

"Illegally obtained evidence." Nate pointed out. "No judge would grant a warrant and even if you did, there's no guarantee that you could link Morales to the set-up as things stand."

"Besides, Immigration would get involved and ship all those kids back to where they came from. That's not saving them, especially Maria. All it will do is allow them to be exploited someplace else." Parker said, fiercely.

Nate, who had been told of Parker's slip earlier, gave her an irritated look but nodded his agreement.

"Hey, we're not Immigration. We've got other kids exemption to remain here in similar circumstances." Olivia noted.

"For the duration of the court case. Once that's ended, they go back." Nate replied. "No, we go stick with the plan. Sophie?"

"Morales wants $250,000 for the four children we selected, payable by electronic transfer. We bargained him down to $200,000. It doesn't really matter as we don't intend to pay him a cent but it would have looked suspicious if we hadn't haggled. I'm waiting for the bank codes."

"So, all we need to do now is wait." Nate concluded.

"And what about the rest of the people in there?" Olivia asked. "Or do you only care about this Maria Sanchez?"

"By the time we're finished with Morales, he won't be in any position to exploit anyone." Nate replied, grimly. He glanced towards the Ormolu clock on the mantelpiece. "I got to go out. I won't be back for dinner."

As the meeting broke up, Hardison slid over to his boss. "Nate, I was talkin' to the Concierge. He says the cops have been asking 'bout strangers in any of the apartments."

Nate's body language stiffened. "What did he tell them?"

The Hacker shrugged. "That he hadn't seen anyone but …"

Nate nodded. "The time we bought is running out." He agreed.

**T.B.C.**

.


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry about the delay in posting. I had a bit of writers block. I knew what I wanted to say but I couldn't get it to come out. Anyway, I took time lout to write the first chapter of a new Crossover story (Buffy and New Tricks) and that seems to have cleared my blockage.

Thanks to everyone who has remained interested in the outcome to this story. Welcome to the following people, who have added it to their favourites or Story Alerts since the previous chapter was posted – **Tammims, veritygrey, BabieLizzie, 0o0-The-Melodious-Nocturne-0o0, shellbob, Love Angel 1705, , SaM-i-aM-42, evil midget 06 **and **Crimson Angel Winges**,

As usual, special thanks to those who have reviewed it – **alinaandalion, W.S.C. Magica De Spell (, peppymint, Ookami Sakura, nas2439**, **future cop, ladybugsmomma,** **Tzigone () **and** LadyArin****. **

There is reference to child prostitution and exploitation in this chapter but nothing explicit. Apologies for my attempt to render a southern accent, it's probably way off.

Anyway here we go…

**Chapter 14**

"So, what's new?" Eliot Spencer quietly asked as he stood inside the toilet cubicle down the hall from the squad-room crib.

"Hey, bro! Long time, no hear!" Alec Hardison's cheerful voice came through the comms.

"Nate went out a few hours ago, he hasn't come back yet, I drew cop-watch and everyone else is tucked up in bed…Oh, and we found Maria Sanchez!"

Eliot let out a sigh of relief. Matters were coming to a head and there would be some action soon, not to mention the unnatural position in which he found himself would come to an end.

"The bug I planted on A.D.A. Cabot working OK?" he asked.

"Yeah, nothin' earth-shattering as yet. Your friend Cragen phoned her a while back. They got cops out lookin' for us but we already knew that. They already checked here but the concierge kept the faith!...Hey, Nate's just got back, he wants a word…"

Nate Ford's voice came over the com link. "Eliot, we're almost ready to make our play. After we touch base with the cops tomorrow…later this morning…find somewhere private and I'll tell you how it's going to go down."

"Got it!" Eliot said, tersely. He flushed the toilet and left the bathroom heading back to the crib unable to hide the spring in his step.

* * *

"Hector, darling," cooed Sophie, "ya'all must think Passion La Belle came down in the last shower. There is no way I am going to pay you a nickel up front."

It was mid-morning in the penthouse. Olivia, Elliot and the crew had breakfasted while they awaited Morales phone call. It had come in minutes before and they were all listening tensely to it. Morales had thrown a wrench in the machinery. He now wanted the money before he handed over the children. This did not fit in with Nate's plan and he was gesturing urgently to Sophie not to agree under any circumstances. She frowned at him in irritation. She was a professional; she knew what she had to do.

"Sure I trust you," she continued, "but you know what Ronald Reagan said, trust but verify. I'm goanna want to check the merchandise before I pay up… Yeah, and you could take ma money and never show up!" She listened for a while and then said, "Look, what we need here is a compromise. How 'bout this, We make the transfer at the meet itself through our phones. Once I'm satisfied the merchandise is in good condition, you give me your bank codes and I transfer the money from my account to yours. You check it's arrived and then we split? I'll contact you again when we need to…err…re-stock."

Sophie glanced towards Hardison who grinned and made a "thumbs up" gesture.

Elliot and Olivia glanced at each other, expressions of understanding crossing their faces.

"No way. Once the deal is done A'm goanna want to get the hell outa Dodge! Ah hear you've got yourselves a regular set of assholes for sex cops here in the Big Apple. We meet somewhere near the Holland Tunnel. The sooner I'm outa State and headin' south the better!"

Sophie relaxed and a genuine smile crossed her face. "O.K. The docks. Yes, you can text me the exact SatNav co-ordinates at the last moment. See, a little compromise on both sides and we got ourselves a deal!"

Nate rubbed his hands. "Excellent!" When?"

"Tonight. Ten-thirty." Sophie replied.

The Mastermind looked at his watch. "OK. We got a lot to do to get ready, but first, we need to check in with our NYPD allies. Hardison?"

"On it, boss."

Elliot Stabler stalked across the room until he was inches away from Nate, staring him deep in the eyes. "Are you goanna tell Cragen about the meeting you've just arranged with Morales?" he demanded.

Nate stared back, "No." he said, in a flat voice.

He watched the anger build in the detective's face, then just before it exploded, he grinned. "I'm going to let you tell him."

Elliot's look of total shock brought a chuckle from the Crew; then Hardison said,

"We're ready to rock Nate, just say the word."

"OK. Put Captain Cragen on, please."

Hardison shook his head, sadly. "That ain't the word."

"So, what is the word?" Nate asked.

"Screen on!" Hardison announced, as, with a grin and a flourish, he flicked a switch and the monitor lit up to show the SVU Squad Room. A group comprising Cragen, Huang, Munch, Tutuola and their Eliot had already congregated around their screen.

Cragen nodded towards them, his eyes picking out his detectives and his body language relaxing as he noted they were still unharmed.

Parker came up close to the screen and carefully examined the image of Eliot. "Are you still O.K., Eliot?" she asked, anxiously, "They haven't given you the third-degree or anything, you know, since yesterday?"

Eliot grinned back at her. "I'm fine, thanks Parker. He turned his glance towards Nate. We got a lead on Sophie's would be rapists." He said. "A guy called McLachlan." He nodded towards the remainder of the group in the Squad Room. "They're keeping him under observation." Although Nate and the Crew already knew this, it would have been suspicious if he hadn't mentioned this as soon as he could.

Cragen grunted. "We expect him to lead us to the rest of his wolf pack before long. In the meantime, Ford, I expect you and yours to stay away from him. There will be no street justice on my watch!"

Nate's answering smile was angelic. "Wouldn't dream of it, Captain. In the meantime, we have some developments to report as well." He nodded towards Eliot Stabler, who told them about the meeting with Morales and the reason for it. "…so, we can bust him for child prostitution!" the detective ended.

Cragen frowned. "It could be considered entrapment." He said.

Nate shook his head. "It would only be entrapment if the trap had been engineered by the agents of the state. We are private err…citizens. Check with you're A.D.A., she'll tell you the same."

Olivia, who had been quiet until then, spoke up. "It's not only the child prostitution angle, Captain. Morales has set up at least one sweatshop staffed by illegals. He's using women and children as slave labour. You have to see the conditions he's keeping them in to believe them!"

Cragen's eyes grew hard. "And you weren't going to tell us that, Ford?" he asked.

Nate shrugged. "I was getting around to it but Detective Benson has saved me the trouble." He said, before giving the address and adding. "I strongly recommend that you hold off raiding it until after the meet we've arranged. If you raid it and there's no evidence linking Morales to it -and I'm willing to bet there won't be… he may call off our meeting and you'll be left exactly where you were before we got involved, with nothing."

Cragen felt the eyes of the room on him as he considered. Finally, he nodded. "We'll raid the sweatshop simultaneously with you making the deal." He decided. "That way, there's no chance his people will hear that he's been busted and close down the operation. If there is evidence linking him to the sweat-shop that'll be a bonus."

Nate nodded. "Sounds like a plan. We're waiting for the SatNav co-ordinates to the meet site. We'll forward them to you as soon as we receive them but you must be ready to roll at a moment's notice. He's cagey so he's not going to give us a lot of notice. If you're going to flood the dock area with cops, I suggest you tell them to keep a low profile."

Fin Tutuola pushed his way to the front, his face tight with suspicion. "You're being mighty co-operative all of a sudden." He growled. "The only deal on the table still sees you and your Crew serving prison time. When we get there, we'll bust you along with Morales."

Nate shrugged. "If we're still there."

"What about Mr. Spencer?" Munch asked. "We already got him."

"For the moment." Nate acknowledged. As Fin lunged to grab hold of Eliot, Nate's voice suddenly rang out, harsh with warning. "Remember, we still have your detectives. Any…discourtesy towards Eliot will lead to repercussions for them."

Fin stared towards his Captain, who, reluctantly, signalled for him to let Eliot go. Eliot shrugged off the Detective's grip easily and glared at him.

"Well, until tonight, Captain, officers." Nate nodded, pleasantly, as if the previous incident had not occurred, and the screen went blank.

Parker nodded in satisfaction and turned towards the detectives. "Good. If they'd been nasty to Eliot, we'd have had to be nasty to you." She settled back in an easy chair, curled her legs up under her and began calmly flicking through a magazine.

* * *

"Hey, Don."

Captain Cragen looked up from his lunch. It promised to be a busy day, followed by a long night so he had gone out to the local cop diner to stoke up with the blue plate special. He recognised the officer who had greeted him and smiled. Pat Murphy had started on the Force with him and they had been patrolmen together as rookies. Unlike Cragen, however, Murphy had been content to stay at that rank. He had always said he was a street cop by nature and wanted to see out his service as one.

"Pat, long time, no see." Cragen greeted his colleague. "How are things? Melanie well? Chris must be in his last year of college by now."

Officer Murphy sat down and signalled the waitress for coffee. "Everyone's fine. Mel sends her regards. Chris wants to be a lawyer so he's looking at Law Schools right now. He's got good grades so he might get a scholarship. But that's not why I'm here." He lowered his voice. "You asked uniforms to check out high end real estate for any suspicious new tenants..."

Cragen nodded. "Yeah, nothing doing so far. Why?"

Murphy looked uncomfortable. "My partner and I were checking out an apartment block near Central Park. The desk-man said no-one new had moved in, but, on our way out, I heard one of the residents, real blue rinse, Park Avenue matron type, asking who the black man living in the penthouse was. The Concierge told the old broad that the owners were away and he was the house-sitter. Well, I know the company who usually supply the sitter and there's no way they'd send an Afro-American to that particular block. The residents are all white, predominantly elderly and very rich, old money rich. They'd be insulted if you were to call them racists but…"

"They wouldn't want one living there unless they were someone's servant." Cragen ended the sentence.

"Yeah. I mentioned this to my Captain but he shrugged it off. Said the owners had probably gone to a different company. I think he's scared that if we moved on this information and it turned out to be nothing, there'd be a political backlash but, I got a hunch…you know?"

Cragen nodded. Murphy's instincts were good. If it did not feel right to him, there might be something in it. "What was the address of this block?" he asked.

* * *

"_You alone?"_Nate's voice came clearly over the comms.

Eliot nodded, although there was no-one there to see him. "Yeah, and you don't know how difficult that's been since this morning!"

Nate's voice took on an amused inflection. _"I can guess. Sorry about that. Anyway, this is what I need you to do…"_

Eliot listened carefully, interrupting once to argue with the other man.

**T.B.C.**


	15. Chapter 15

First off, apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. I had my cataract surgery on 27th October and just wasn't in the mood in the period before or just after. Anyway, it's now two weeks since the operation and, touch wood, all seems well.

Thanks as usual for everyone who has reviewed Chapter 14 (**Endgame65**, **Tzigone**, **Tawnyleaf,** **W.S.C.****Magica****De****Spell,****ladybugsmomma**, **Mkzharrus**and**nas2439.)** or added this as a Story/Author Alert/Favourite since Chapter 14 appeared (**HopeWithTheBlueMoon,****wayfaringpanda****,****EmyPink****,** **A****Forgotten****Fairy.****.AKA-****Fairy****,****andrewjeeves****,****cuttergirl****,****sweetmint101,****WhiteFang001,****Dramachild,****black****canary**and**3murphytoddlers.)**

**Chapter 15**

"I can't get you a warrant on what you've got so far." Alex Cabot announced after Captain Cragen had filled her in on his conversation with Pat Murphy. "I'd be laughed at by every judge in this city if I were to go to them with this."

Cragen nodded, it was the response he had expected. "I'm not sure I want to take them down at this point anyway, Alex." He said. "Not until after they give us Morales. I just want to cover all my bases. What would you need to get a warrant?"

"Get me an identification of at least one of the crew from a reliable witness and I'll get you the warrant." Cabot replied.

"And if they get away after we take down Morales and were seen entering the condo by a reliable witness, say a police officer I were to place there, would we still need a warrant?" the Captain pursued his line of questioning.

The A.D.A. shrugged her shoulders. "They're all wanted fugitives. I'd say, no, I'd argue exigent circumstances."

Cragen nodded. "That's what I wanted to know." He said.

* * *

Lucille Mark II rattled through the dark, deserted streets around the docks. Much against Hardison's better judgement, Nate was driving, with Sophie in the front passenger seat. Hardison himself, with Parker, Olivia and Elliot was crammed uncomfortably in the back.

"Ow!" Hardison complained as Nate took a corner sharply and the edge of the work-desk jabbed into his back. "Slow down, man! Lucille don't like bein' shaken 'bout like this!"

Sophie's cell phone buzzed before Nate could reply. She flicked it open and read off a set of numbers and letters, "SatNav co-ordinates." She said. "We have seven minutes to get there."

Hardison's fingers danced over the keyboard of his on-board computer. "Got it!" he announced. "Pier 40, just off the West Side Highway."

Nate swore as he jerked at the wheel and Lucille swung around, her tyres squealing in protest. "Sorry Hardison." he apologised. "We don't have a lot of time to get there."

"What about your promise to Captain Cragen?" Elliot demanded.

"Ring him. Parker, lend him your phone." Nate responded.

Parker grudgingly held out her cell, snatching it back as soon as Elliot had made the call.

"OK, everyone you know what to do. Detectives, I'll drop you off just before we reach the rendezvous point. Be ready to move in as soon as we've got the kids safely in the van. Your backup should be in place by then."

* * *

**15 minutes earlier**

Donald Cragen sat in the command car issuing instructions to his units as he sped through the streets. Finally, he sat back; everything was ready. The uniforms covering the sweatshop were alerted and would move dead on ten-thirty. All he needed now was the location of the meet. Then the radio crackled with an incoming message. He was surprised. He had expected to be contacted on his cell but, if the Leverage team could hack into his Squad Room's computer network, presumably accessing the NYPD radio system was child's play for them. The caller, however, was not one Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson or one of the wanted felons he had found himself working with. Instead it was Prolli, one of the detectives watching McLachlan. He sounded excited.

"Cap, I think something is about to go down. McLachlan met up with his scumbag pals at the bar and they were drinking whisky like there was no tomorrow. There was a woman, looked like a hooker. She went over and started making nice with them, then, suddenly, she ups and slaps McLachlan right in the kisser and storms out. McLachlan and his pals got up and followed her out, looking like they meant business. Saunders and me are tailing them but we need back-up."

Cragen's fist banged the dashboard as he cursed, loudly. Trust everything to happen at once. All his available personnel were already committed, either to the pier area, the sweatshop or watching the Park Avenue condo where Ford and his crew were suspected of using as their base. The only people he had available were Tutuola and Munch, who were babysitting Spencer. But there was nothing for it. "O.K., Prolli, I'll send over reinforcements. In the meantime, don't lose our perps."

"Got you Captain." Prolli said, tersely. "We're going east on Grand. Saunders is on foot and I'm following 'bout half a block behind in the car."

"Keep Despatch regularly updated on your location." Cragen instructed. "Cragen, out."

As soon as the transmission had terminated, he fingered the switch. "Command to SVU Central."

"Captain?" Munch's calm voice came over the airwaves.

"Munch, McLachlan is on the move and Prolli and Saunders need back-up. You and Tutuola are it." Cragen said. "They were going east on Grand. Despatch will have updates on their location."

"Message received. What should we do with Spencer?"

"We could lock him in the cage." Tutuola suggested.

Cragen thought fast. "No, it's a violation of Departmental regulations. There has to be someone there to monitor his health and well-being. Cuff him and take him with you."

He could hear Spencer's protests in the background. Fin had obviously wasted no time in obeying his instructions.

"O.K. Captain, we're on our way. Munch out."

Almost immediately the cell-phone in Cragen's pocket began ringing urgently. He reached in and listened as Elliot passed on the meeting details to him.

* * *

Lucille slowed down and Parker and two of New York's finest tumbled out before the van picked up speed again and turned the corner to the pier proper.

The area where they had been deposited was badly lighted and Olivia could barely see the others. Suddenly she felt a tiny hand grab her arm and felt herself half guided, half pushed behind a pile of crates. Before she could react, a narrow beam pencil light shone through the darkness and she found herself staring into the grinning face of the young thief. Next to her she saw Elliot rubbing his elbow, which he had obviously banged while exiting the van.

Parker put her finger to her lips and motioned for them to follow her. After sharing a glance, Elliot and Olivia obeyed. Moving silently they made their way towards the corner. Fortunately there was plenty of cover available and Parker seemed to have a preternatural ability to use it to best advantage. Finally, they were huddled against the wall of a small building, probably the pier office. Parker carefully looked round the edge of the building and nodded to herself in satisfaction. Then she motioned for Olivia, who was immediately behind her, to change places. Olivia slid past and repeated the motion.

There was no lighting but the scene was clearly lit by the headlights of the two vehicles parked there. One was Lucille, while the other was a dark coloured people carrier. Morales and a goon stood in front of their vehicle as Olivia watched Ford and Devereaux get out of Lucille and move towards them.

"Get ready. It's going down." Parker whispered.

"Where's the backup?" Elliot muttered, looking worriedly behind him at the still deserted pier area.

"Finishing their do-nuts maybe?" the young thief suggested.

"There wasn't much warning." Olivia said. "They're probably still on their way."

"What do we do if the exchange is made and Morales tries to leave before they arrive?" Elliot asked. "We don't have any weapons remember?"

"We use the resources available to delay them." Parker said, as if reciting a rote lesson. She pointed the narrow beam of her torch towards the fort-lift trucks, cranes and stacks of crates and containers that they had used to cover their advance and smiled angelically at the two detectives.

* * *

Nate grinned at Morales.

"Wa'll, here we are, compadre. You got the goods?"

"First the money." Morales snapped, obviously on edge.

"No, first you show us the merchandise, Hector, baby." Sophie insisted.

The mobster shrugged and nodded towards his goon who slid open the door of the vehicle and motioned roughly for its occupants to disembark. Nate and Sophie watched as one of the children they had selected slowly began to clamber out. The girl did not move fast enough for the man and he reached in and pulled her out, sending her sprawling onto the tarmac.

Nate had to use all his self control to stop himself from reacting and he felt Sophie tense up beside him.

"Hey, buddy, don't damage the merchandise. Otherwise I'll be forced to re-negotiate the price with your boss." She called.

After a glance towards Morales the goon picked up the girl and pushed her forwards. He was more gentle with the others. Finally the children were arranged in a straggly line where they stood, listless and with their eyes cast down, allowing Sophie and Nate to examine them. They were relieved that Morales appeared to have kept to his part of the deal, Maria Sanchez was among the children and none of them appeared to have been further harmed.

"O.K.," Sophie finally said. "Everything seems to be in order."

"Bueno." Morales replied. "And now, the money."

He took out his cell phone and sent Sophie his bank details. She used her own phone to electronically transfer the agreed amount into his account. Finally, Morales phone beeped. He checked it and nodded in satisfaction.

"It has been good doing business with you Senorina La Belle. Contact me again when you need to err… re-stock." He motioned to his goon and the two of them returned to the carrier, leaving Sophie and Nate to herd the scared children towards Lucille. At a signal from his boss, the goon slid the car into gear and took off, steering round the knot of people and picking up speed as it went.

Nate and Sophie paused to watch as it left the pier and swung round the corner. In the distance they heard a loud bang, followed by a grinding sound.

Lucille's back door swung open and a madly grinning Hardison jumped out, gesturing urgently for them to hurry.

"_Rápida __todos,__entrar__a__la __camioneta__!__" _Nate shouted_.__ "__Esta__bien,__estamos __aqui __par a__ahorrar_."

The children looked at each other, torn between hope and fear. Nothing good had happened to them recently and they didn't know if they could believe this strange Americano couple, who had seemed to be friends with Morales.

Sophie bent down and smiled at Maria Sanchez, using all the sincerity at her command. _"__Maria, __Venimos __de __su __Tia __Constanza __y __Tio __Pablo.__Nos __ha __enviado __para __ayudarle __a __escapar.__"_

Maria looked into the strangers eyes. She seemed nice and, somehow trustworthy, not like the people who had abused and exploited her. She took the leap of faith.

"_Confío __en __TI!__"_ she announced, loudly and allowed Hardison to give her a hand up into the van. Taking their lead from Maria, the other children followed. It was a tight fit but there was no help for that.

Sophie and Nate scrambled into the front seats and took off.

* * *

Munch pulled his car into the kerb and a black, middle-aged man hurried towards it. This was Detective Phil Saunders, Bernie Prolli's partner.

"Hi, guys. They just turned into Pitt. They're still on foot and in a pack. Prolli and I changed places 'bout five minutes ago. I'm hanging back in case they recognise me from earlier." He reported.

"What about the woman?" Fin asked, urgently.

Saunders grimaced. "As far as we can tell they're still following her but we haven't been able to check."

"O.K. We'll go on ahead and check on her. You stay in pursuit of the suspects. That way we'll have them bracketed if anything goes down." Munch decided.

"What 'bout me?" an angry voice came from the back seat. "My arms are going numb, sitting cuffed like this. Besides I can help if they make a move."

"Get used to the feelin of being handcuffed and shut up.'" Fin replied.

Saunders glanced over and saw Eliot Spencer sitting in the back of the vehicle. He glanced towards his colleagues, questioningly.

Munch shrugged, "Had to bring him. No-one left in the squad room." He explained.

Suddenly, the radio crackled into life.

"Alert, Alert. I've lost them. Last known location, south entrance to the Hamilton Fish Park."

Fin grabbed the radio. "Message received. We're on our way!" he said, tersely. Saunders climbed into the back of the vehicle and sat next to Eliot. He had barely had time to close the door before Munch set the car in motion and sped towards their destination.

"Phil, cuff him to the door so he can't up and leave." Fin ordered.

Saunders leant over and complied. He had just completed the manoeuvre when the car came to rest with a squeal of tyres. Prolli hurried over from where he had been waiting near the entrance to the park.

"O.K. let's split up." Munch decided. "Phil, Bernie, you head north, check out the far end of the park. Fin and I will search this end."

The two other detectives nodded and set out.

Munch turned towards Eliot, who was tugging on the chain connecting him to the car door. "Yell, if you see them come back out." He said.

"Hey, man I'm totally defenceless here!" Eliot snapped, angrily. "Let me go so I can at least defend myself."

"The door and windows are closed and locked. We'll be back before they can do anything to you." Fin replied, unsympathetically.

With that that detectives turned away from the car and entered the park.

**T.B.C. **


	16. Chapter 16

Here's a new chapter to start the New Year. Just to let you know, the story is winding down to a close now so there will only be one, possibly two more chapters.

Thanks, as always to everyone who has reviewed Chapter 15 - **W.S.C. Magica De Spell**, **Endgame65**, **ladybugsmomma**, **a friend ()** (well, he will certainly get free somehow!), **peppymint** (I know what you mean!), **ian ()**, **nas2439**, **USA-Fanatic (**hope this lives up to the expectation) and **me () **(See below for the answer to your question.) or made this a favourite story/ alert, **Theatre Phoenix**, **Muggle1**, **EldritchFire**, **Si Zilla**, **Ryujin65**, **ChelseaEllie and** **fnkydebbie**,

Happy New Year everyone!

**Chapter 16**

Sirens blaring, the line of police cars took the corner on to the pier approach road at speed and raced along its length, the lead car coming to rest on the pier only feet away from the waters edge.

The area was dark, quiet and completely deserted. After a brief pause, Captain Cragen got out of the lead car. He dived into his pocket and brought out a flashlight playing the powerful beam across the pier - nothing.

He swung the light towards the administration building and checked the sign on its side. It confirmed what he already knew. This was Pier 40.

Cragen felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. "They've played us!"

Anger welled up, coupled with frustration and worry over his officers' safety. He began cursing. Then his cell phone rang.

* * *

Fin and Munch watched their fellow detectives disappear into the darkness as they anxiously scanned the area near them for any sign of McLachlan and his accomplices or their intended victim. It was deserted. They knew that the odds were not on their side. The Hamilton Fish Park was nothing like as big as Central Park but it was still quite large, offering plenty of cover for people to hide.

"How 'bout we split up?" Fin asked. "We can cover a lot more ground that way."

Munch considered. "No," he finally decided. "There are at least five of them, too many for us to risk dealing with single-handed."

"We stick together, we reduce our chances of finding them at all." Fin argued. "We should call for reinforcements."

"There's no-one left at the Precinct." Munch pointed out. "And the perps will have plenty of time to rape that woman and get away if we wait for the local cops to arrive."

"OK. You're the one with the stripes. So, which way?" Fin wanted to know.

Munch looked around and finally pointed towards a narrow, badly lit path which had a general air of disuse about it. "Down there." He said.

The two men had just begun to move in the direction Munch had indicated when a loud scream rang through the stillness of the night. Without a word, the two detectives turned in the opposite direction, pulled their guns and raced towards the sound.

"So, when it comes to it, rank don't mean squat." Fin muttered as they ran. Munch ignored him.

The path was wide and well lit and they made good time. They turned a corner and just had time to realise that the area they had entered was dark when they both felt their feet catch against something. They stumbled and fell. At the same time, two shadows detached themselves from behind the trees on either side of the path, moving swiftly towards them. Fin had managed to rise to his knees when he felt something heavy crash against his back. He fell back to the ground. Still prone, Munch turned and fired off a shot. It missed his assailant, who struck him across the arm with what felt like a tree branch, causing him to drop his weapon. The shadowy figure cursed and both detectives curled up and covered their faces as blow after blow rained down upon them.

Then there was the sound of a single pair of running feet. Munch and Fin braced themselves, thinking their attackers were being reinforced. If it had been Saunders or Prolli they would have announced themselves as police officers. The sound of running footsteps grew closer and closer, then Fin felt rather than saw the man beating him being pulled away. He moved his hands from his face to see the man who had beaten him falling like a stone at a vicious looking punch from their saviour. Fin felt a thrill of vicarious satisfaction flow through him. He tried to rise but the beating he had taken had left him weak. A stab of pain made him think at least one rib had been broken.

"Stay down." The familiar southern accent of Eliot Spencer ordered.

For once, Fin did not feel like arguing with the man. He fell back and watched as Spencer moved, almost balletically, towards Munch's attacker. Fin tensed, this one was prepared, he would not be so easy and he was armed with a thick branch, broken off a tree. Fin had lost his gun early in the attack. He looked around but it was nowhere to be seen so all he could do was lay there as the man kicked Munch hard in the ribs, then moved cautiously towards Spencer, swinging the tree limb in front of him. Spencer dodged back and the man came on, then, with a lithe movement, Spencer moved quickly to one side, grabbed the man's outstretched arm and twisted, the crack of breaking bone could be heard, even over Fin and Munch's panting breaths. The weapon fell from the man's nerveless fingers. Spencer kept hold of the arm, forcing it up, then buried his fist deep into the man's chest. He grunted and doubled up. Another blow to the neck and the man crumpled to the ground.

Spencer stepped away from him and looked down at the two prone detectives. "Are you going to be OK?" he asked.

"I'll live." Munch said, dryly. "Fin?"

"Give me a few minutes." His partner replied.

"O.K. There's something goin' down further on, probably that woman bein' attacked by the other scum. I'm going after them. Follow me when you can. Don't worry 'bout these two. When I hit someone, they stay down." Spencer said. He stepped around them and disappeared.

* * *

"Where the hell's the Seventh Cavalry when you want it?" thought Elliot Stabler, angrily as he ducked a swinging crowbar.

At Parker's suggestion, they had moved some small packing crates to form a makeshift barricade across the road. It had originally gone exactly as intended, Morales people carrier had turned the corner and ploughed into them. The crates had been sent flying by the force of the collision and the driver had lost control, the vehicle careering across the dock access road to crash into a crane. He and Olivia had run across and grabbed Morales and his goon as they began to shakily climb out.

That was when it had begun to go wrong.

Although they had identified themselves as police officers, Morales and his muscle had displayed the lack of respect for the law that had characterised their entire lives; quickly realising that neither detective was armed with as much as a pair of 'cuffs, let alone a weapon, their instinct for self preservation had taken over. Morales had punched Olivia viciously in the stomach and grabbed a heavy flashlight from the interior of the van, which he had swung at her head. Still holding on to the goon, Elliot had gone to his partner's aid and blocked the blow. Unfortunately, this had given his prisoner the opportunity to break free and draw his gun. Seeing the danger, Olivia had grabbed an empty wooden crate, lying open close by and sent it flying towards the man. It had hit him, sending the gun flying out of his hand into the surrounding darkness.

The sound of another motor engine approaching from the pier made Elliot risk a brief look back. As the van of their former allies swung onto the approach road he saw Parker kicking the remainder of the barrier away from the road, clearing the path for the vehicle. It slowed. With a cheery wave towards them, Parker climbed into the front, at which point it accelerated and disappeared into the night. Looking back, he saw that Olivia had closed with Morales, using the lid of the crate as a shield against the flashlight. Morales' goon had picked up a crowbar from somewhere and was staggering towards her.

He understood what had happened in a flash. "We've been double crossed." He had yelled towards his partner. "Morales is probably strapped as well. Don't let him draw. I'll deal with the muscle."

Olivia had no time to do more than grunt her understanding as Elliot had run towards the goon, ducking under the swinging crowbar to hit the man in the solar plexus. He had grunted in pain but was obviously a veteran of dirty fights because he recovered quickly and advanced towards Elliot, this time more cautiously. Elliot looked around for a weapon. Unfortunately, the crowbar seemed to be the only useful tool the longshoremen had left out when they had finished work that day so he concentrated on avoiding blows as he looked for another opening.

Olivia felt her flimsy shield cracking under the repeated hammer slows from the flashlight. It was slowly being reduced to splinters but she dared not move away as this would give Morales the opportunity to draw the gun he was certain to be carrying, Finally the inevitable happened and the crate lid shattered in two. She felt Morales triumph and saw him raise the flashlight for a killing blow. She saw that the force of Morales last blow had left one of the pieces of wood in her hand with a jagged end. She discarded the other parts of the crate and turned the jagged edge towards Morales, then, covering her head as much as possible with her remaining arm, she ran towards him.

She felt the flashlight come down hard on her collar bone and pain flowed through her body but she kept on and was rewarded when Morales grunted with pain as the makeshift stake pierced the soft tissue of his body.

In the distance the welcome sound of police sirens could be heard, drawing closer with every second.

Elliot took advantage of the brief moment of distraction the sound caused in his opponent, moving fast, he closed with the man, jabbed him in the pressure point at the top of the sternum and used his momentum to grab the arm holding the crowbar. The man kneed him in the groin but he ignored the pain and followed through with another punch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Morales was down, a jagged piece of wood through his stomach. The sound of the approaching sirens made his own adversary's resistance all the more desperate as the man struck out at him again and again. He ignored the blows, holding on to the arm with the crowbar, then, with a sharp movement, he pulled down, bringing the man so close he could smell his rancid breath, Elliot draw back his head, then brought it hard against the goon's forehead with a crack. The man fell back, dislocating his arm as he did so. Elliot released him and watched as he fell to the ground, unconscious.

The line of police cars draw to a halt. Captain Cragen got out and surveyed the scene.

"I hope this was reasonable use of force." He said, dryly.

* * *

Munch and Fin staggered into the clearing. Fin still holding his throbbing ribs.

A beautiful fair haired woman dressed in a business suit sat on a bench, breathing heavily. Although the blouse had been torn and the jacket and skirt showed signs of having been in a struggle, it was clear to both officers that they were expensive. This did not look like the hooker they had been expecting but the fact that she was surrounded by the unconscious bodies of McLachlan and his remaining pals seemed to indicate that she had been their intended prey that night.

She looked at the two men. "Are you the police?" she asked, urgently. "The other man, he told me to wait for you here."

"Where'd he go, this other man?" Fin grunted.

"What happened here?" Munch asked at the same time.

"I…I was taking a walk. Then these men came out of nowhere. They…they tried to rape me but this other man, he fought them. He was like a berserker. He took on all of them and they dropped like stones. He told me the police would be here shortly and I was to wait for them, then ran off in that direction." The woman indicated the path behind her. "Are you detectives?" She repeated.

Fin cursed and pulled out his cell phone. "This is Detective Tutuola. There's been a 110 at Hamilton Fish Park. I need backup…" he looked round, "and paramedics..." He added, unwillingly, "at…" he glanced at a sign nearby, "the Cedar Circle plus an APB on one, Eliot Spencer. Description as follows…"

Munch moved towards the victim. "Are you OK?" he asked, gently. "Did they…? Do you need medical treatment?"

The woman shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just a bit shocked. The man came before they could do anything except rip my blouse."

Munch sat down beside her. "Will you testify against them Ms…?"

The woman nodded emphatically. "I will. They said they'd done this before and my name's Maggie Collins, Doctor Maggie Collins."

T.B.C.


	17. Chapter 17

This is the last chapter of the story although there will be a flashback chapter covering what happened from the Leverage team's perspective.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on it. Special mention, as always, goes to my reviewers, **peppymint**, **a friend(), ****ladybugsmomma,** **W.S.C. Magica De Spell**, **Ryujin65 **(Sorry, no – I just couldn't fit him in.), **Tzigone ()**, **alinaandalion**, **jsjel** (you got your wish – in a way), **zombieleopard** (thanks for your comments concerning the handling of the psychiatry), **nas2439 **and **Darksoul01 **and **hoellenwauwau**, **DarkAmaz0n**, **One-Eyed Lady**, **rahsax**, **ShadowsofGrey**, **idbeinthefollies**, **ShadowDragonPhoenix**, **silversalvation18**, **meri47**, **Robodoc77**, **xTullyx**, **Tiara Shin** and **SCGAThrawn **for adding this as a favourite story or alert.

**Chapter 17**

Captain Don Cragen slammed the phone down into its cradle. "Nothing!" he said, disgustedly. "The penthouse has been cleaned out and there's no sign of Ford or any of his crew anywhere!"

Dr George Huang shrugged. "It's to be expected." He pointed out. "We knew that Mr Ford is highly intelligent and a meticulous planner." He was looking through the one-way window in Cragen's office, which gave on to the interview room next door, where Olivia and Elliot was interviewing Doctor Collins.

It was four hours later. The SVU detectives had been patched up and had returned to duty, although Fin was moving very slowly. He had been correct; one of his ribs had been broken. The doers, however, had not been so lucky. All of them were currently being held in the Prison Ward at Bellevue. None of them were suffering life threatening injuries but the doctors had decided to keep them in overnight for observation. Despite this, however, the squad-room was awash with humanity. Munch, Fin and a number of Spanish speaking officers were interviewing the freed sweat shop workers, while the cage was crowded with their former captors. The babble of voices and the shouting of the prisoners demanding access to their lawyers made the place sound like bedlam. Cragen had retreated to the comparative calm of his office, taking Huang with him.

"What about Spencer?" Cragen grunted. "There's no way Ford could have known that McLachlan and the other low-lives would decide to begin hunting again at the same time everything else was going down."

"Maybe… maybe not." Huang replied. He gestured towards the interview room, where the victim was giving her statement to the two detectives. "Doctor Collins seems extraordinarily composed for someone who has just been attacked. What do we know about her?"

Cragen's expression betrayed his shock. "You're not suggesting…?" He rifled through the papers on his desk. "According to the information she gave Munch, she's an art expert, visiting New York to give a series of lectures at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She fits the victim profile."

"Where is she staying?"

"The Peninsula."

"That's on Fifth Avenue. What was she doing on the Lower East Side? If she wanted a walk in the park, Central Park is only a few blocks away from her hotel."

Cragen's expression changed to one of concern. He sat down at his desk and began to carefully type into his computer, he relaxed as he brought up a web page. "She's legit. Look, there's photograph of her on the Museum's homepage."

Huang came over and looked over his shoulder. "Can we trust that? According to Elliot and Olivia, Mr Hardison hacked into websites and changed their content during the time they spent with him."

Cragen got up, went over and knocked on the window. He and Huang watched as the detectives exchanged a glance before making their apologies to their witness and leaving the room. Left to herself, Dr Collins glanced round the room before getting up and turning her back on the observers to look out on the Precinct yard below through the window opposite.

"What's up Cap?" Elliot asked as he strode into the office, slightly ahead of Olivia.

"Doctor Collins, what do you make of her? Is she telling the truth?" Cragen demanded.

Elliot looked puzzled. "She's a good witness, clear and articulate. She'll stand up well under cross. Why should she be lying? We already know McLachlan and his pals are rapists and she fits their profile."

"Olivia?"

The female detective frowned. "I wasn't getting that vibe off her, Captain, but, now you mention it, there _is_ something a little off about her. It's just a feeling, nothing I can put my finger on."

Cragen nodded. Olivia had good instincts. He nodded towards Huang. "Doctor Freud here, thinks our world acclaimed art expert could be a plant." He said.

Olivia looked like she'd been hit by an express train. "She's an art expert? I didn't kn… Is she lecturing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art by any chance?"

Seeing Cragen nod, she went on, "It may be nothing, but I picked up the N.Y.T one time after Ford had put it down. It was open at the Arts and Culture section. I remember there was an article about an art expert coming to the Metropolitan to give some lectures about Dutch Old Masters but I don't remember the details."

The four police officers looked at each other.

"Let's get some more background on our perfect witness." Cragen said, finally.

The background noise from the squad-room suddenly rose as women shouted and screamed and children began crying. Cragen glanced through the glass panels and saw that the room had suddenly filled with dozens of people wearing the uniform of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement and an angry Munch was arguing with their leader.

"What the hell!" Cragen cursed. "Elliot, call Alex Cabot. I think we're going to need legal support. When you're finished, start on that background research. 'Liv, go keep Doctor Collins company. Offer her a mug to Joe and a magazine. Do whatever you need to keep her here. Doc, come with me. I may need backup from another branch of the Federal government."

* * *

"You're doing fine, Maggie." Sophie re-assured her through the ear-bud.

"I hope so. I'm fairly certain I'm committing several felonies here." Nate's ex-wife muttered softly, trying to move her jaw as little as possible. "Why do you think the detectives were called out?"

"Just remember that the law is not the same as justice, Maggie." Nate advised. "Let us do evil, that there may come good."

"That, as you well know, is quoting Romans 3:8 out of context. Father Paul would have your guts for garters! He prays for you, you know."

Her former husband chuckled. "Give him my best."

"You haven't answered my question."

"We're checking…damn!" Nate's voice lost its bantering tone, becoming urgent. "Maggie, they're looking into your background. They're sure to connect you to me. You need to stay calm and do everything I say…"

"Alright, Nate. I'll take over from here." Sophie's voice interrupted her tone authoritative. "Maggie, it's not a problem. They'll try to trip you up so stay calm. Don't volunteer anything about Nate but answer all their questions truthfully except for one thing - deny having been in contact with him since Kiev. And stick to your story about the attempted rape. They can suspect what they like but they can't prove anything…trust me."

Maggie took a deep breath to steady herself. "In for a penny…" she muttered, more to herself than to her listeners.

* * *

"…they're all illegals! We're taking them into custody and that's the end of it!" the leader of the I.C.E. Team shouted at Cragen. "You can finish interviewing them all once they've been processed into Federal lockup." He went on, more calmly.

"These people have been beaten, starved and exploited. They've already been heavily traumatised. We need their co-operation to make our case. How do you think they'll react when you take them away from their kids and send them to some Detention Centre miles away?" Cragen yelled. "And what about getting them to testify?"

The other man shrugged. "Hey, I'm just doing my job. Anyway, how do you know this isn't all a set up so they can get legal residence? These people will say anything to stay in this country."

Cragen was now speechless with anger.

Munch took over. "Yeah," he said, sarcastically, "see that woman over there with the kid?" he pointed towards a thin woman in a dirty dress, holding an emaciated boy of no more than five or six, who was holding his arm at an odd angle, "She encouraged one of those goons in the cage to break her son's arm and leave it to set by itself."

The other man shrugged again. "It's possible. I've seen illegals mutilate themselves to stay here. They're not like us. Life in their countries is hard; they learn to cope with pain early on."

Munch looked like he wanted to punch the man.

"I think we all need to calm…" Alex Cabot began before being interrupted by a disturbance at the doorway to the Squad-room.

She and the others looked around. Forgetting, his anger, Munch hurried forward, a look of absolute hero worship on his face.

"Councillor! Can I help you? Sergeant Munch, Special Victims. I'm a great admirer of your work."

"Thank you, Sergeant. I and my associates," he waved towards a group of young, fresh-faced lawyers clustered behind him. "have been retained to represent a group of people I believe you have recently saved from exploitation in a sweat-shop. I am given to understand that the Federal Government believe them to be un-documented aliens. If you would take us to our clients, please."

"Yes, sir, this way." Munch threw a triumphant glance towards the I.C.E. Team leader as he ushered the lawyers towards the released labourers.

Cragen watched them as they went past. "Isn't that…?" he asked.

Alex Cabot nodded. "Martin Krasneck." She confirmed.

"The low-life slime who defends terrorists and traitors?" the I.C.E. Team leader was outraged.

"I think he would prefer being described as a civil rights lawyer specialising in Constitutional Law, Due Process and habeas corpus." Alex said, dryly. "We'd better introduce ourselves to him."

She led the group towards the lawyer.

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

There was a knock on the door and Don Cragen looked up from his paperwork. "Come in." he called and a self-satisfied Elliot Stabler walked into the small office.

"Have you heard, Cap?" he asked.

Cragen laid down his pen, grateful for the excuse to put off the administrative work. "What?"

"Hector Morales' high priced lawyers are no longer representing him. He's asking for a public defender."

Cragen sat back in surprise. "What the hell…?"

Elliot Stabler's grin almost split his face. "Apparently, someone cleaned out Morales' bank accounts. With that, and the court order Krasneck got, freezing his other assets, it's a good thing the City's springing for the clothes he's currently wearing, 'cause he'd be as naked as a jaybird. We got him. We've rolled up his organisation and without top class legal counsel and people out there bribing and intimidating witnesses, he's goin' to be spending the rest of his life in jail!"

Cragen's face broke out into a smile. "Thanks, Elliot. It couldn't happen to a more deserving guy." He indicated the phone on his desk. "I got a call 'bout twenty minutes ago, from Alex Cabot. She's been liaising with Krasneck. She said that he's persuaded a Federal judge to order the immediate release of the people we rescued from the sweatshop on the basis that the Government could offer no proof they were actually here illegally. He's willing to allow them to co-operate with us providing nothing is introduced into evidence regarding their legal status. She thinks she can work with that."

"Great! What about McLachlan and his crew?"

"They deny attempting to rape Doctor Collins. In fact they deny ever seeing her before." Cragen's lips twisted in a cynical smile. "One budding Einstein was outraged. He told Cabot they were actually intending to rape some hooker who'd dissed them."

"So, she believes Doctor Collins story?"

Cragen shrugged. "There's no evidence to make her disbelieve it. Sure, it's suspicious that our vic. just happens to have been married to Ford, but in the circumstances, she's prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"It's a pity we can't get McLachlan and the others for the rapes but still; attempted rape should see them go down for a long time." Stabler observed.

Cragen smiled. "Apparently, the story of Doctor Collins ordeal was published on the internet and the publicity has caused a number of other women who were raped to come forward. It's early days yet, but we may be able to make multiple rape cases against them all."

"So, we got to thank Ford and his crew for helping us put away a lot of major low-lives. Don't get me wrong Captain, but I think it was worth it."

Cragen's face became stern. "Ford and his crew are as much criminals as Morales and McLachlan - don't forget that Elliot. And they have made a profit out of all this. Who do you think cleaned out Morales bank accounts? They've probably stolen millions of dollars that, by rights, should have gone to the State."

The phone rang and Cragen picked it up. "Yes? What…!"

Stabler watched his boss' face as the conversation continued. Finally Cragen put the receiver back on its resting place. He looked at the instrument for a long moment, his expression a mixture of surprise, confusion and pleasure. He looked up.

"That was the Police Benevolent Fund. They rang to thank the Unit. They've just had an anonymous donation of $1 million dollars. There was a covering letter saying that the donation was a way for the individual to express their appreciation of the work done by this Unit.

**T.B.C. **


End file.
